The Charmings and SnowCharming Collection
by misscam
Summary: A collection of ficlets written after prompts. Charming family, Snow/Charming, a few Emma ships referenced.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: These are all ficlets written after prompts submitted to my Tumblr. A few are mature, though the majority are G or T-rated. Some are short, while others are much longer.

II

Prompt:  
_Charming kissing Snow in the snow_

He hadn't planned this. Honest. He had simply meant to take his wife outside for a walk, strolling like dignified royals through the garden, but somehow he made one pun and ended up on his back in the snow with Snow at his front too.

The stuff at his back is cold, but the woman leaning over him and kissing him is all warmth and life and the spring of his life. He links his arms around her and pulls her more firmly against him before flipping her underneath him instead.

He hadn't planned this, but he has to admit this is actually better than his plan of pulling her behind the trees to kiss her up against them. This is softer, for one thing.

"Snow in snow," he jokes, and she gives him a stern look.

"Charming, if you make one more 'Snow' pun..."

"Then what?"

"Then the only snow you will be getting is this," she says and shoves a pile of it against his chest. He merely laughs, kissing her and crushing the snow between them; like everything else between them, it simply melts away.


	2. Chapter 2

Prompt:  
_Snowing having another baby and Emma holding it for the first time_

Emma has been dreading this moment since she first learned of the pregnancy. She's known it was coming since she saw her parents' bright, hopeful and a touch anxious faces as they told her and told them she was happy for them.

She was. She is. But she's still fearing this.

"This is your brother," David says gently and lowers the baby into Emma's arms. The bundle is so tiny and warm and she remembers another child she held in her arms. For a moment she can barely breathe from the pain of it.

Then the baby opens its eyes and looks at her and she can only look. Oh. This isn't Henry. Henry is looking up at her with excitement right now. This is a new child; her brother.

"He's beautiful," she manages and David can only nod.

"Do you want him back?" she asks Mary Margaret, who leans against David with such bright, teary eyes.

"You can hold him for as long as you like, sweetheart," her mother says and their eyes meet in understanding; they've both had to hold a child all too briefly before having to let go.


	3. Chapter 3

Prompt:  
_Emma finds Graham's letter after the funeral_

There are a reasons for walls, Emma Swan thinks distantly. It's not just keeping people out, no. They also hold the structure together and keep it from caving in. Make them strong enough, and you can even withstand an earthquake.

The ground feels like it is shifting beneath Emma as she reads; this is Graham's letter to her that was probably never intended to be read, crumpled as it was in his bottom drawer. But death tears privacy away; no walls can hold it out.

His greatest wish was that they could be together, and Emma stares at the letters until her eyes hurt and her heart feels as empty as he claimed his was. It wasn't, of course. His was a heart she might even have grown to trust.

But no. Slowly, she rises to her feet. She puts the letter back where she found it, and carefully she begins walking out. Mary Margaret will be waiting and will be worried. No need too, though. The structure still stands. The walls are up again.

They'll be stronger this time.


	4. Chapter 4

Prompt:  
_Charming loved Snow's long raven curls during their time in FTL. One one of their rare "fights" threats were thrown about having said hair cut short, to Charming's horror. Back in SB, MM and David just finished their joint shower... MM remembers how David used to comb her hair for her. She asks him if he misses it._

Snow leans back against Charming as he lifts the towels to her skin, drying her lower back while kissing her shoulder. Her skin still feels warm from the shower and the shower activities (very enthusiastic ones, in fact) and she sighs happily as her husband continues to lovingly dry her.

As he reaches the nape of her neck, he pauses for a moment. His fingers toy idly with her short hairs there, and she remembers the way he used to braid his fingers in her long hair. He would comb it too, before bed, often turning it into something sensual. She even threatened to cut it once during a 'fight', the most dire mock threat she could think of to counter his about never wearing leather pants again.

"Do you miss it?" she asks.

"What?"

"My hair as it were in the Enchanted Forest."

It's not just the hair she's asking about, she knows, and knows he will know that too. It is everything. Their land, their castle, their first months of marriage when everything seemed so promising and they were so impossibly young.

"Sometimes," he admits, his breath brushing her skin as he leans forward and kisses short hairs at her back. "Do you?"

"Sometimes," she echoes, turning to regard him. He is different from then too. He may not have the radical difference in haircuts she has, but his eyes are older. Time has touched them, just not in years.

He nods slightly, then leans forward and kisses her while the towel falls to the ground. At least that hasn't changed. Her hair may be shorter, his eyes may be older and they both may carry new scars both inside and on their skin; but Charming still kisses Snow with true love's kiss, and she kisses him right back with the same.


	5. Chapter 5

Prompt:  
_The Charmings celebrate their wedding anniversary_

"Charming," Snow says in a voice he's long since learned to recognize as oncoming trouble. "Where are you taking me?"

"You'll see," he says softly, chuckling as she balls her hands into fists to keep from fidgeting with the scarf he's got tied around her eyes. She's not too patient, his wife, and he loves her for it even if he also mocks her gently for it sometimes too.

"Here," he says, pulling the truck up. To her credit, she manages not to rip the scarf right off, but instead sits in the seat until he comes around and helps her out. Carefully, he leads her step by step until he has her right where he wants her.

"Wait," he whispers as she reaches for the scarf. "Close your eyes."

She makes an impatient sound, then stands still as he carefully unties the scarf and lets it fall. "David?"

"I know it's not the same lake or the same land," he whispers against her ear. "But I did the best I could. Open your eyes."

She draws a sharp breath, then does as he asks. He watches her face keenly as she takes in their surroundings; a small lake, greenery as far as the eye can see and a flower arch he's constructed.

"Happy anniversary, Snow," he says gently and she shifts her gaze to him.

"It's…" she breathes.

"Not quite how we got married, I know," he says hurriedly. "I couldn't recreate our first wedding exactly…"

"Charming, shut up," she says affectionately, pulling him close and tip-toeing to kiss him. Her kiss is soft, and he finds himself smiling as she pulls away. As silly as he felt doing all this, it suddenly seems all worth it. "I love you."

"I love you too," he says

"Happy anniversary," she says, and kisses him again, and again; the flowers move softly in the wind and even if his mother isn't watching them this time, Charming still thinks she would smile at this just as she did their wedding.


	6. Chapter 6

Prompt:  
_Charming family fluff, Henry being overprotective of his Grams_

"Henry," Snow says sternly as her grandson looks up at her with a guilty yet defiant expression. It reminds her so much of Charming it throws her for a moment.

"I'm not sorry," Henry says. He looks at the dagger Snow is holding and avoids her gaze, so she kneels down to look him in the face.

"Henry, this is a dangerous weapon."

"I know!" he counters. "But I couldn't carry Gramps' sword so I had to take the dagger."

"Why did you have to bring the dagger at all?"

"Because Emma and Gramps aren't here," he says as if that's obvious.

Oh, she thinks. It's been months since Greg and Tamara took Henry, but she knows traumatic childhood events can take years to heal, if they ever do.

"I'll protect you, Henry," she says gently.

"I know," he says, lowering his head. "You would protect me against anything. You're Snow White. You're a hero."

"So why the dagger?" she asks and his gaze when he looks at her is half Emma, half Charming and all Henry.

"So I could protect you too," he says.


	7. Chapter 7

Prompt:  
_Snowing; the first time they feel the baby kick_

She's carrying a child.

Of course, she knows she is pregnant very well; she's known it since Doc confirmed it and even before then, she was pretty sure. It's even pretty obvious that she's pregnant to the whole castle since Charming has been walking around with the happiest and dazed expression she's seen outside of Happy and Dopey, and is overprotective to the point of adorable annoyance to boot.

So pregnant, yes. But it isn't until this point she's realized, truly realized, that she is carrying a child. A child now kicking against her stomach and the hand she is resting there. Her daughter. Her daughter is alive in there.

"Charming?" she whispers.

"Mm?" he murmurs sleepily, then bolts upright in bed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she says, taking his hand and pressing it to her stomach. He stares at her in confusion for a moment, and then, then the baby kicks again.

His lips part soundlessly and she watches his face and the myriad of expressions crossing it. He stares at his hand and her stomach as if he can hardly believe it, as if it is the most wonderful thing in the world that their child is alive inside her.

"Snow," he says thickly.

"Yes," she agrees, smiling at him as he looks up at her. His fingers entwine themselves in hers, but his hands stay on her stomach and she knows it will linger there the whole night now.

And everything is, for this little moment in time, entirely right.


	8. Chapter 8

Prompt:  
_Snow entertains Henry for the day while Emma and Charming are working at the station. Either an actual scene of Snow and Henry, or Charming or Emma coming home to find the disaster/cuteness later. _

"Let's go through this one more time," Emma says in her best I-am-the-sheriff voice, and gives Mary Margaret and Henry both a stern glance. David is no help next to her. Granted, he's leaning against the pillar with his arms folded disapprovingly, but whenever she looks away, he seems to be smirking just a little too much.

"I'm sorry," Mary Margaret offers meekly, but Emma doesn't buy that for a second. Mary Margaret was meek at times, yes, but her mother is not and especially not since she seems to be trying to hide a smile every time she looks at Henry or David as well.

"I'm sorry too," Henry pipes up.

"I trusted Mary Margaret to look after you today," Emma says. "But I trusted you to behave yourself as well. So I ask again, why is there an arrow embedded in the door, a wooden sword in my toaster and a lot of apples that look like they've been used for target practice?"

David barks out a laugh and she glares at him until he composes himself to attempted stern again. It fails spectacularly five seconds later when Mary Margaret looks at him, and the two idiots actually smile at each other.

"What is so funny?" Emma asks sourly.

"Not funny," David says gently. "Well, okay, your mother training her grandson in the way of banditry is pretty funny. But Emma, you're…"

"What?"

"You're being such a mother," Mary Margaret says softly and David nods. So does Henry, the little traitor.

"And he's the son of Prince Charming and Snow White," David continues. "We're just teaching him what we know. This is how we look after him, Emma. And how we look after you."

Shit. Now she can't even be mad at them. It's all she can do just to keep her composure.

"Okay," Emma says after a moment. "Bring me a wooden sword and the nearest apple and I'll show you proper banditry."


	9. Chapter 9

Prompt:  
_Family fluff, Henry being upset he won't be in his Grandmother's class anymore since he's moved on a year_

Henry sits on the bed forlornly, shifting the completed birdhouse back and forth in hands. It's not going to change anything, he knows. The birdhouse is complete. The school year is done. He'll be moving up a grade and getting a new teacher.

"Hey Henry," Gramps says from the doorway. He's leaning against it casually, and Henry wishes he knew how to do that and still look cool, like a prince should. "You were quiet at dinner. Everything all right?"

"No," Henry admits.

Gramps nods, then walks over to sit down next to him on the bed. "Is it about school? Are you going to miss your friends during the summer holidays?"

"It's not that," Henry says. He looks at the house again. "Next year, I'm not going to be in Grams' class anymore."

"No, you're not," Gramps agrees. "It's okay if you want to feel sad about that."

"She gave me the book," Henry says, and Gramps puts an arm around her. "I felt like she was the only one who actually saw me."

"I know exactly what you mean," Gramps says softly, smiling as if remembering something. But Henry? She doesn't have to be your teacher to see you."

"She doesn't?" Henry asks hopefully.

"No," Gramps says firmly. "She was never my teacher and she saw me. She saw Emma. Even if Mary Margaret will be someone else's teacher now, it will only be you that has her as a grandmother. If you ask me, that's even betterl. And if we go downstairs right now, I promise you she's going to look at us both and know we want hot cocoa."

So they do and Grams does know; and she looks at Henry and smiles, and Henry finds that maybe being the grandchild is better than being the pupil after all.


	10. Chapter 10

Prompt:  
_Snow and Charming. Their first time._

Sometimes, when she was a little girl, Snow would think about princes and love and marriage beds in the certainty that all that would come to her and that her mother would be there to guide her through everything. It would be proper.

Then her mother died. Then Regina lived to become the Evil Queen and Snow didn't think about anything but survival for a long time. Until the prince found her (and found her again) and love claimed them both and now, now Snow is about to claim Charming and Charming about to claim Snow for the first time.

The mattress is soft beneath her as he presses her into it, kissing her again as she moans softly. What little she has gleamed from listening to the maids has prepared her a little for what she knows happens between man and wife, but it hasn't prepared her for how it feels. How Charming's skin feels against hers, how his fingers and his mouth feels on her skin, how her breasts are cupped so perfectly in his hands, how her body seems to want to press against him of its own volition, how she wants something from him she can't put to words.

How hard he grows in her hand when she curiously reaches out to touch it and he makes a growl at the back of his throat.

"Snow," Charming says intently, his voice husky. She looks at him, seeing some of the same insecurity she feels on his face as well. Oh. So this is his first too.

"I know it is going to hurt a bit," she whispers and he nods, drawing his thumb across her lips. Strangely, she can feel his hand hesitantly go between her legs. She draws a quick breath as he touches her there, and another.

"Is it...?" he asks.

"Mmm," she manages. It is good, almost too good, and the noises that come out of her as he continues surprises even herself. He watches her face intently at every move he makes, as if trying to map her pleasure for the future. To her surprise, the pleasure seems to mount and mount, and she's panting and writhing underneath him. She wants, she wants, she wants and she isn't even sure what but when he presses his fingers hard against her she knows it's exactly that and she whimpers his name as her body takes over. He presses his forehead hard against hers and steadies her, but she still feels afloat in everything.

Oh, she thinks distantly as she regains her senses. This must be why the maids liked to talk about this so much.

She's going to have to try this on him later, she decides, using her hands. She even heard a maid whisper about using the mouth once. She always imagined everything would be so proper, but somehow, Charming makes her want to be indecent.

He leans forward and kisses her as he adjusts himself between her legs. She tenses a little, but as he sucks on her bottom lip, she relaxes more and more. Then suddenly he is inside her and she is gasping at the sharp pain and the unfamiliar sensation. He's inside her, hard and large and holding still. As she watches his face and the sweat on his forehead, she knows that is costing him a great deal of willpower.

"Are you...?" he asks, closing his eyes for a moment as she shifts underneath him.

"I'm fine," she assures him. The pain has faded, and as he starts moving slowly, she finds the unfamiliar sensations are even partly pleasurable. She can see the pleasure on his face too, as his pace quickens, and she looks forward to map those for the future too.

He finally collapses against her, his body shuddering against hers. She kisses his collarbone as he breathes into her shoulder, and she finds herself smiling against his skin. This is the marriage bed, then. Skin and body and a shepherd come prince, and the love so much more than what she imagined as young. This isn't proper at all.

This is better.

(And will become even better yet, she learns, as Snow and Charming map each other and settle into the marriage bed properly.)


	11. Chapter 11

Prompt:  
_Snow and Charming discuss her one-night stand with Dr. Whale_

"Why did you sleep with him?" Charming asks, sitting down on the bed next to her. His tone isn't accusatory, isn't angry, and the slight jealousy she knows he feels is masked fairly well.

She sighs. She supposes she knew sooner or later this would come. Not because Charming holds it against her. No. Because Charming will want to understand and wants nothing between them. Not even this.

"Why?" Charming asks again and Snow sighs, looking down at her hands. Of all the questions her husband could ask her, this isn't one she isn't looking forward to answering. Not because she doesn't know the answer; she does. But because the answer will hurt him.

"Because David Nolan hurt me," she says brutally honest. "He gave me hope when I was trying so hard not to have it, and then he he stayed with his wife after all. He broke my heart. So that night Dr. Whale offered to buy me a drink and I accepted. I just wanted to feel... Like I was someone worth choosing. He chose me that night."

She looks up at her husband, as expected, he does look hurt. David Nolan hurt the woman Charming loves, and she knows that pains him even more than it pains her. He's whispered it into her skin often enough, even if she doesn't hold it against him. This was Regina's curs, to trap Charming in David Nolan.

"I thought it may be something like that," he says distantly, and his eyes are sad as he attempts a smile. "I don't blame you."

"I know," she agrees.

"I'm sorry," he says after a moment. "I punched him while you were away. I'm not sorry about that, though."

She chuckles softly, then leans up to kiss him. He kisses her back eagerly, pulling her onto his lap and pressing his forehead against hers as she breaks the kiss.

"I broke your heart too," she says, remembering the look on his face as she told him she didn't love him. "You still loved me, didn't you?"

"Yes," he breathes. "Even when I didn't think you loved me, I loved you more than life."

"David Nolan broke Mary Margaret's heart, but she still loved him," she says softly. "That's why Dr. Whale was a one-night stand and just that."


	12. Chapter 12

Prompt:  
_Snowing - first morning waking up together after getting married_

Growing up on a farm, David is used to waking early. It is almost embedded in him, this sense of morning about to break, no matter how deep he sleeps.

Or who he sleeps with, he realizes, sensations of a warm body next to his beginning to make themselves known as he slowly wakes up. Clearly, his mind cares nothing about how late he stayed up the night before with the fair-skinned temptress now known as his wife, and thinks it's time to wake up either way.

Snow, he thinks and opens his eyes. She is still sleeping, her long dark hair spread across her naked back as she lies on her stomach. Her hand is draped across his abdomen, and her body pressed against his side. Every now and then she makes a noise as she sleeps, with her breath steady and slow.

He hasn't seen her sleep before, but he's going to for the rest of his life now, he realizes. He's always going to wake before her and he'll always wake to this, to her.

Carefully, he leans forward and kisses the side of her head. Snow. His wife. This will be his morning from this day on.

"Charming?" she murmurs sleepily. "Is it time to get up?"

"No," he tells her gently, shifting even closer to her. "You can sleep a while longer."

She makes a soft noise of agreement and then sleeps on while he watches, smiling at the sight of something far more beautiful than any dawn.


	13. Chapter 13

Prompt:  
_a mother/daughter moment between Snow and Emma set after 2x22  
_

The wind is strong, and Emma lets it tear at her. It feels almost cathartic, the wind howling when she cannot. She has to be strong. She has to be strong for Henry and save Henry. She has to.

"Emma," Mary Margaret says gently, appearing at her side. Emma knew it was only a matter of the time before one of her parents would come to her, and then the other after. "We are going to find him."

That's them, Emma knows. Her parents always find each other, and she found them and they believe in all that. She wonders if they've also considered that means they always lose each other too, because she isn't sure she could take more loss than she has already suffered.

"We'll find Henry," she agrees instead.

"You're thinking about Neal," Mary Margaret says after a moment and Emma closes her eyes. Strong. She has to be strong for Henry.

"He let go," Emma says, feeling the words like sharp daggers cutting into her. "So Henry would have at least one parent."

"Oh, Emma," Mary Margaret says gently, pulling her into a hug. "He did the right thing, you know. He put his child first. As you do."

"As you did?" Emma asks, remembering what she read when she finally looked at her parents' story in Henry's book. They were going to be separated for her sake.

"Yes," Mary Margaret says, pride and sadness tinging her voice. "As we'll always do."

Henry, Emma thinks. She's going to be strong for Henry. Neal let go for Henry. She has to hold on. And she will.

"Mom," she whispers, feeling the tears flow as Mary Margaret hugs her closer. And so, Emma Swan lets herself be the daughter for a while – before she has to be Henry's mom again.


	14. Chapter 14

Prompt:  
_snow and charming having another child_

"Push!" the doctor orders, and Snow grips Charming's hand hard as she does. Her nails dig into his skin and he wishes he could take more of her pain, all of her pain – and all of her fear too. He knows she remembers another childbirth, another child and what they all lost then. Even if there is no curse rolling in now and nothing that threatens, fears aren't particularly good at listening to reason. He knows; he's tried to reason his own fears ever since Snow told him she was pregnant again.

"One more push," the doctor urges gently.

"I love you," Charming whispers as Snow leans back against him. Maybe he shouldn't be in the bed with her and holding her, but screw it. He's going to be as close to her as he possibly he can, as he always wants to be.

"One more," she whispers, and he nods. She grips his hand and digs her fingers into his skin as she pushes, and pushes, and pushes. She cries out, as a tiny wail joins in too.

Oh. Oh oh oh oh. He can't think of anything to say, can only breathe as his wife falls back against him, and the doctor smiles up at them both.

"Congratulations," he says, as one of the nurse gently lifts up the bundle and carries it over. Gently, it's eased into Snow's arms and Charming presses his forehead against her temple as they both look down at what she's holding. Their baby. Their child. Their second child.

"Charming," Snow says thickly as he puts his arms around her and the baby both. The wail fades, the baby blinks and goes quiet.

"I know," he says, not sure what else to say. He kisses Snow's temple, and then, very carefully he leans down and kisses the forehead of his son. Very soon, they're going to introduce this child to the best big sister in the world and the most complicated family tree this side of biology, but right now he just wants to hold his wife holding their son – and have nothing else happen.


	15. Chapter 15

Prompt:  
_Snow is being sick and Charming takes care of her_

She's warm. Too warm, and the cool cloth against her forehead isn't much help at all. She still leans into it, seeking whatever relief she can.

"Snow," a familiar voice says gently and she forces her heavy eyelids to open. Yes. Charming. He is smiling gently at her, his worry almost masked but she can still catch a glimpse of it in his eyes.

"It's just the flu," he goes on reassuringly, probably to himself as much as her. "Emma called me when you practically collapsed in the kitchen. Dr. Whale was here earlier."

"What's the doctor's orders?" she murmurs. Her head hurts. She hopes she didn't scare Emma too badly by collapsing.

"Strict bed rest," he informs her sternly, shifting into bed next to her, though above the covers. She stares at him in confusion.

"I don't think he meant for you," she murmurs, as Charming changes the cloth to another one and wipes her forehead again. She sighs happily as the coolness of it.

"No. He told me to avoid contact so I wouldn't be exposed," Charming says. "Luckily I outrank him as a prince so I changed the order to strict bed rest for me as well, along with nurse duty."

She laughs weakly. "Nurse Charming."

"Yes," he says softly, kissing her burning forehead. "And after you get better but must still stay in bed, we'll play nurse till your heart's content. Until then, how does chicken soup and company sound?"

"Perfectly charming."


	16. Chapter 16

Prompt:  
_Grandpa Charming having to give Henry The Talk_

"And that's when..." David falters and Henry look at him expectantly. "When... When the bee pollinates the flower after having been very nice to it and kissed it a lot first."

"Okay," Henry says slowly. "What do the bird and bees have to do with what you and Grams do when you rest? Emma said that's what you wanted to talk to me about."

Shit, Charming thinks. This is clearly Emma's revenge for walking in on them yet again – delegating the birds and the bees talk to the grandfather who only has David Nolan's distant grasp of the metaphors involved and Charming's far more practical approach.

Actually... Maybe it's better to do this the Charming way.

"They have nothing to do with it, Henry," he says decidedly. "Birds and bees are just how adults talk about it because they like stories. How about you and I take a drive?"

II

"Hey mom," Henry says, walking into Emma's room with a smile and dumping down on the bed next to her. "How was work?"

"Good," she replies suspiciously. "How did the talk with David go?"

"Good," Henry replies casually. "We went to a farm. Mom, did you know when a boy sheep loves a girl sheep very much like Gramps loves Grams, he's very nice to her and cuddle and then they have sex?"

Okay, Emma thinks distantly. Maybe it's time _she_ had a talk with David.


	17. Chapter 17

Prompt:  
_(FTL) not yet married Snowing. They are a party and are dancing, but they know they have to change partners: it's the rule. So when this happens, some very important royal asshole tries to make a move on Snow. Snow tries to be polite while refusing him and all but it doesn't work and when he makes a very BOLD move on her, Charming notices that, sees read, deals with the asshole and run off to the garden to try and cool off. Snow goes after him, calms him down and then they dance under the stars_

"I'm not sure that is the best way to gain allies for our fight against King George and Regina," Snow says drily behind him, and David turns around to see that his fiance has joined him in the garden. Even without the candles of the ballroom illuminating her, she looks radiant in starlight.

"He was feeling you up, Snow," David replies darkly, remembering the royal asshole pressing Snow far too close even after she had politely told him off again.

"You didn't have to punch him," she comments, gliding up to him. "At least not in the middle of the dance. We are here as Abigail and Fredrick's guests."

"Fredrick will understand," he says, as Snow puts a hand on his folded arms. "Actually, so will Abigail."

"I didn't say I didn't understand," Snow comments, looking up at him through lowered eyelids. His breath catches.

"I just wanted to dance with you," he breathes, lowering his hands to her waist and pressing her against him.

"The dance requires partner change, you know that," she replies, but her breath catches as he leans down and kisses the exposed skin just above the intricate chestpiece of her gown.

"I know," he sighs. "I'm just..."

"My hotheaded fiance?" she suggests and he chuckles. "You know what I was about to do when you punched the idiot?"

"What?"

"Knee him. It's more discreet, but just as efficient."

He laughs, and she pulls him down to kiss him possessively and hotly. He sighs into it, feeling his anger crystallized into something else, but something that will have to wait for now. Instead, he cups her cheek as she pulls back to look at him.

"Dance with me?" she suggests.

"And what does this dance require?" he asks.

"Just you," she replies and he smiles at her as their hands link and he puts his hand on her back. They dance like that, just Snow and Charming in just starlight, and he thinks it more splendid than all the balls in the land.


	18. Chapter 18

Prompt:  
_Charming being overprotective when Snow was first pregnant_

The part about not wanting her to ride, Snow can understand. The extra pillows in their bed all for her are similarly understandable, since the pregnancy gives her a backache from time to time. The extra guards she can also see the reason for, since Regina's threat still looms over them and seem even darker now that they're going to have a child. All these things make, even from her perspective, a certain sense.

But this, this she's having trouble understanding at all.

"You're sleeping on the floor," she repeats, staring down at the pile of blankets her husband is currently looking up at her from sleepily.

"Yes."

"You wait until I've fallen asleep, you make a bed on the floor and then you wake up before dawn to crawl into bed with me again. And you would have kept doing this for weeks if I hadn't woken up tonight."

"Yes."

"_Why_?!"

He sighs. "I just thought... Without me in it, you have more bed to sleep in. Less chance of falling out of it."

"Charming, I've never fallen out of bed in my life and I am not about to start now," she says sternly, holding out her hand and beckoning him to join her in the bed again. Carefully, he eases in next to her and puts one hand around her and one on her stomach.

"I just want you to be safe," he says, and she suddenly remembers that all the family Charming has had before, he has lost. Like her. They've made a new family together, one that will be growing. One he wants to protect, and twice over now.

"I love you," she tells him softly, because she cannot promise him any of them will be safe. She can only promise him that she loves him – as their daughter will also – and hope that that will be protection enough.

(It isn't, as it turns out.)


	19. Chapter 19

Prompt:  
_emma and neal are together again, charming finds out and punches neal_

He should have seen this coming, Neal reflects. Emma's father tolerated him well enough as Henry's father, for Henry's sake, but as the man dating the beloved daughter (again) – that's another matter.

So Neal should really have ducked when he saw it was David at his door. But he didn't, and the punch connected with his jaw rather painfully.

There is just one, and not as hard as Neal suspects David could manage if he wanted.

"You hurt her," David says firmly.

"I know," Neal acknowledges. He touches his jaw, assessing the damage. Yeah, it will definitely leave a bruise. "She told you we're dating again?"

"No," David says. "I saw you two kissing last night and Snow convinced me not to barge out with a sword to disembowel you."

"And this morning?" Neal asks drily.

"I am still considering it," David says, putting his hand son his hips. "You left her once."

"I am never leaving her again. You can punch me as many times as you like or come at me with a sword. I'm not leaving her."

"Good," David says curtly, and Neal looks at him with surprise. David shrugs. "If Emma chooses you, if she truly wants you... I'll respect that. But if you want me to respect you, you earn it."

"Fair enough," Neal says. It is, after all. David is, like his daughter, upfront and clear on where he stands. He keeps his word, and that is something the part of him that knows what a deal broken can do to a boy very much respects. "Next time I'll duck."

David shakes his head. "No next time. This time, don't hurt my girl or I won't be settling for a punch."

"Deal," Neal agrees; he intends to keep that and knows David certainly will.


	20. Chapter 20

Prompt:  
_snow and charmings first kiss_

"Snow!" the voice says in surprise, and Snow looks down to see the man she has tackled is in fact not one of Regina's soldiers hunting for her. No.

"Charming!" she exclaims and the prince in question does smile cheekily up at her from underneath her body. She can see his horse nearby and she realizes she hasn't been discovered by Regina's men as she feared. She's been rediscovered by Charming.

"We should stop meeting like this," he jokes.

"As I recall, you tackled me last time," she points out.

"True," he acknowledges. "Does that mean it's my turn to knock you out?"

Already feels like he has, she doesn't say. Instead she gets to her feet and offers him a hand. He watches it for a moment with something she can't quite identify, but does take it. He doesn't let go even after he's on his feet, holding her hand while looking intently at her.

"How are you?" he asks softly.

"The Queen hasn't caught me yet," she tells him as merrily as she can imagine.

"But you haven't escaped her either," he points out. She shrugs, but she imagines he can see the truth of it well enough in her face.

"Speaking of escaping evil – how's the arranged marriage?" she asks and he chuckles.

"Still arranged," he says, his gaze seems to almost caress her face. She feels breathless from it, especially as his gaze falls to her lips. "Snow..."

She just breathes, and she can see his chest rise and fall as his breath quickens. His hand is still in hers and this thumb is moving slowly across her skin, and she finds it a strange thing that such a simple caress could feel so overwhelming.

"Charming," she breathes and that's when he makes a noise at the back of his throat and pulls her to him. But it's her who tip-toes and brushes her lips against his first, feeling strangely bold and afraid at the same time.

This isn't the polite kisses of courting noblemen and princes, she realizes quickly. His lips are soft, yes, lingering against hers at first. But then his lips are tugging at hers insistently, and she can hear herself make an unfamiliar noise. She parts her own lips slightly, his bottom lip pushing her upper lip up further as he brings his hand to her cheek. He tilts his head as he pulls her even closer, and this, this she now knows is kissing.

"James?" a voice calls, and Charming pulls away from her abruptly. He's panting as he regards her.

"King George," he says in a low voice, and she realizes this is a stolen moment that reality has just reclaimed. "I'm not sure he wouldn't hand you over to Regina. I should..."

"Go," she agrees, and looks down at the hand he's still holding in hers.

"Snow..." he says again, the longing in his voice so palatable she almost tells him to stay for a moment. But arranged marriages is the reality of princes and princesses; she knows. (At least she thinks she knows. She doesn't quite dare to think that she might not know at all.)

"Go," she tells him again, freeing her hand from his grip and turning around. She can feel his gaze on her for a moment longer, and then he is gone and she – she thinks she might be a little lost.


	21. Chapter 21

Prompt:  
_snow and charming finding out when they conceived emma_

Snow sighs contently, leaning back against Charming's chest. His hand is resting on her stomach, and he's making slow circles on her skin with his fingers. She smiles at the unconscious gesture. She told him she was with child just two days ago, and he's already quietly affectionate towards the child growing inside her.

Charming the father. That's going to be him, she knows. That quiet affection, that patience, that always loving presence that he's become in her life will be the same in their daughter's life.

He kisses the top of her head, then her nose as she tilts head head to look up at him lovingly.

"I saw the midwife today," she tells him.

"Everything all right?" he asks, suddenly alert.

"Yes," she says and he relaxes visibly. "She estimates that I am seven weeks along."

He nods, kissing her softly before suddenly pausing. "Seven weeks?"

"Mmhmm," she confirms, trying to keep her lips from turning upwards too much.

"But that's when..."

"Mmmhmm."

"So this child was conceived when we..."

"Mmm_hmm_."

Charming breaks into a grin, and she can't hold back her own smile anymore. In fact, it turns into what she knows must be a rather ridiculous grin but one that Charming seems to love as he kisses her enthusiastically. She leans into it, the desire to sleep fading rather quickly and being replaced by something else.

He pulls back after a moment, rubbing his nose against hers.

"That week at the dwarf's cottage was very..." he trails off.

"You were bored out of your mind, Charming."

"That's not what I was out of my mind because of," he says huskily and she gives him a look through lowered eyelids.

"You managed," she points out, thinking about his hands and his mouth on her skin and her legs wrapped around him while biting into his shoulder to keep quiet.

He grins at the memory. "I think we better tell the dwarfs you're eight weeks along and not seven."

"Mmm_hmm_," she agrees, and pulls him down for another kiss; he manages quite well this time too, as it turns out.


	22. Chapter 22

Prompt:  
_emma tells henry about neal's death_

Emma Swan is used to being hurt. She's had a lifetime of it, after all, getting so used to it that it feels strange to now have people who wants nothing more than to never see her hurt again. She can carry hurt. Even losing Neal, she will be able to carry just as she carried losing Graham. She can carry it. She is used to it.

Henry isn't, and yet now he has to. He has to carry losing his father and she has to be the one to put the weight on him. She can carry her own pain. Carrying his too – how she will ever manage that?

So as she approaches her son, Emma feels her steps falter.

"Henry!" she calls and her son looks up at her. Happily at first, then his face falls as he notices her expression. She must have been unable to mask it completely, she realizes.

"What's happened?" he asks.

"Sit down," she tells him, and he does. She sits down next to him and puts her hand on his shoulder, wishing she could do anything but what she is about to do. "Henry..."

He is shaking his head already. "Just tell me."

"Neal was shot and fell into a portal," she manages, watching her son's face crumple and it feels like her heart falls apart as well. "I'm so sorry, Henry."

He leans into her as she puts her arms around him, steadying him physically and wishing she could steady him in every way.

"It's not fair," he sobs and she fears her own eyes tear up. No, it's not. No, it's really not. Not fair on Henry. Not fair on her.

In the corner of her eye, she sees her parents walk over while Gold seems to have vanished. Carefully, David and Mary Margaret both sit down next to her.

"We're so sorry, Henry," Mary Margaret says. David takes her hand and nods, looking at Henry with the gentle eyes Emma has grown so used to over the last few weeks. "But we found your mom."

"We did," David offers and Henry looks up. Emma can see the relief and grief both on his young face, and she leans forward to kiss his forehead gently.

"Can I see her?" Henry asks and they all nod.

Maybe this is how she'll manage, Emma thinks. She's used to carrying her hurt alone and have it only be hers. Now she carries Henry's too, and David's and Mary Margaret's – but she no longer carries the hurt alone. They're all there with her, sharing the weight.

Maybe they'll both be able to bear it, Henry and her. As a family, with their family.


	23. Chapter 23

Prompt:  
_I saw you wrote a ficlet about Snow and Chamring discussing the one night stand. I was wondering if you could write one where they discuss David's relationship with Kathryn._

"I saw Abigail today," Snow says and Charming looks up with a slightly guarded expression, as if he's expecting to fight dragons.

"Oh?" he manages.

"We talked a bit," she says, and Charming sighs and comes to sit next to her on the bed.

"I ran into her a few times while you were away," he says carefully. "She and Fredrick found each other after the curse broke. They seem happy."

"I never liked her back in our land," Snow reveals and Charming glances up at her. "I pretended to but a part of me always remembered that you almost married her."

"Snow," he says affectionately. "You pretended to very badly. I knew. Abigail knew. But she had as little desire to marry me as I did her. If we had married, it would have been... It would have been like the fake marriage Regina trapped me and Abigail here in Storybrooke."

She looks at him as he takes her hand, lifting it up to kiss the finger where she wears his mother's ring.

"David Nolan and Kathryn Nolan had a miserable marriage," he says, grimacing slightly at his own words. "Even when we were trying to fix it... It never mended the gap between us, it only masked it for a while. Even cursed, we never truly loved each other because we both had our true loves elsewhere."

"She said something very similar," Snow says with the ghost of a smile. "But it hurts to know you were with another woman, Charming. Even if it was the curse. I don't blame you, I just..."

"I know," he says softly. He lifts a hand to her cheek and moves his fingers lightly across her skin. "It hurts me to know you were with Whale too, even if you were cursed. I don't blame you. Especially not since David Nolan broke your heart. He also hurt another woman I greatly respect as well."

"Abigail," she says. She sighs and leans her forehead against his chin. "She told me she gave David and Mary Margaret her blessing even before the curse broke, and that she definitely gave it now."

"You're still not going to like her, huh?" he teases and she has to grin at how well he knows her.

"No," she admits. "But she's making it really hard for me, at least."

He grins, and she leans forward and impulsively kisses him. He sighs at the touch of lips to lips, catching her bottom lip between his to lightly suck on it. It is her who sighs happily as he deepens the kiss, feeling his thigh press hard against hers.

When he finally pulls back, she is a little breathless and he's looking at her with so much love that steals her breath as well.

"You are my true wife in any land," he vows and kisses her again, and she kisses her true husband of any land right back.


	24. Chapter 24

Prompt:  
_AU Snow, Charming jealous that baby Emma seems to like Snow better_

His daughter is so perfect Charming often thinks he was a fool to want a boy (the other times he simply wants a boy too). Emma is Emma, such a mix of him and Snow it is simply breathtaking. He often watches his little girl crawl across the floor to mommy and finds it the loveliest sight in the whole land.

Except – except it is always Snow that Emma crawls to. He sits on the floor also, inviting his daughter to come to him, but she never does. She smiles at him, but it is Snow she goes to.

Of course he loves how much his daughter loves Snow, and especially loves how motherhood looks on his wife. But he's also jealous. He never thought he would be jealous of his own wife, but here he is, wanting what she has. Wanting Emma to come to him too, to be daddy's little girl and not just his daughter.

He doesn't tell Snow that, but he can see she knows from the looks she gives him. So he isn't entirely surprised when one morning, she puts Emma down on the floor of the nursery and then quietly slips out.

Emma looks perturbed as she looks around and doesn't see the familiar sight of her mother. For a moment, he is almost tempted to call Snow back, but instead he sits down and waits.

Emma looks at him. He smiles at her and she carefully smiles back, sucking at her thumb.

"What do you want to play with today?" he asks. The room is stuffed with all the toys he and Snow could get their hands on, spoiling their child before it was even born.

Emma narrows her eyes, then looks at the dragon he picks up.

"This one?" he asks. "You want to be Emma, mighty dragon slayer, savior of this land?"

She makes a happy noise that he takes as a yes. He holds the dragon out, and his daughter gives him another speculative look. Then very, very slowly she crawls across the room and to him. But it isn't the dragon she goes for. It's him, pulling at the laces of his leather shirt. He watches in fascination as she pulls at them, bites on one and then looks up at him.

"It's okay," he tells her, smiling again. "You can play with those if you want."

So she does.

And when Snow returns some time later, she finds her daughter in her husband's arms, the two of them engrossed in each other – the loveliest sight in the whole land, she reckons.


	25. Chapter 25

Prompt:  
_Snow tells Charming about king George's curse a few months before they have Emma_

Even though the birth is still months away, they've picked a room for the nursery. It is empty for now, but very soon they will start filling it with everything a baby might want to be happy. (Since said baby will be making the parents happy as can be just by coming into this world.)

If she closes her eyes, Snow can already see what it might look like. She can imagine shelves of toys, the crib, a mobile moving softly in the wind and Charming leaning over to watch his daughter and never tire of it. Yes. She can see it as she closes her eyes, and she can also see what it is missing.

The doting grandmother that would have been here too every day, that should have been here.

She feels Charming's arms come around her from behind, and she leans back against him. He kisses the top of her head as his hands stroke her stomach gently.

"What's wrong?" he says softly into her hair. "Are you worried about Regina's threat again?"

Always, she doesn't say. She knows the lengths her step-mother will go to, and she fears for this child and her husband both.

"I wish your mother could be here," she says instead.

He sighs. "I wish it too, Snow, but the waters couldn't heal her. We did what we could."

Just then, the baby kicks and Charming makes the noise he always does when it happens, something between wonder and disbelief.

"She would have loved this child," he says wistfully.

"She did love this child," she says. She doesn't want to hurt Charming, but here in this room, as his hands rest on something that wouldn't be possible without his mother, he deserves to know. "Charming, there is something you should know."

"What?" he murmurs softly, kissing her cheek.

"The water would have healed her, but she never drank it. She made Lancelot put it in the wedding chalice instead."

"What?" he says again, this time in confusion.

"King George had put a curse on me so that I could never bear children. His revenge against us both. Ruth found out. She wanted me to drink the water, but I wouldn't. So she tricked us into thinking she had drunk it."

She turns in his embrace to see that he has closed his eyes, a pained look across his features. She touches his cheek as a single tear streaks his skin, brushing it away with her thumb.

"I'm sorry," she says gently.

He opens his eyes to look down at her swelling stomach. "She always wanted this for me. Family. Happiness. True love. I just didn't understand how much she was willing to sacrifice for me."

Maybe he will understand all too well one day, Snow thinks distantly, as he lowers his forehead against hers. He rests his hands on her stomach where their child is growing to soon make them both parents – and make them both understand.


	26. Chapter 26

Prompt:  
_A little Snow and Regina moment after the wedding, earlier in their relationship. Snow is genuinely sweet and loving. Regina is (unwillingly) moved to some tender feelings towards the little girl. I'd prefer it ends on an "up" note but since Regina has been written so unevenly this season, I can understand if she goes back to her ridiculous vendetta._

Daniel, Regina thinks with a shudder, bolting upright in bed. It takes her a moment to realize it's a dream (another one) and that she is her bed in the palace. It almost makes her want to return to the dream, as this is a living nightmare that she is in.

Daniel is gone. She is the Queen. Everything her mother wanted. Nothing she desired.

"Regina?" a soft voice asks and she looks to the doorway to see Snow White standing there. Young Snow framed in light from the hallway, in a white nightdress that makes her live up to her name.

"I'm fine," Regina says curtly, but Snow steps into the shadows of the room nevertheless.

"I have bad dreams sometimes too," the girl confesses. "About my mother dying."

She's always so willing to share, this girl, Regina thinks bitterly. If she had known that before, perhaps she would have known better than to entrust a secret with someone who couldn't keep it.

"I'm fine," Regina says again, but Snow comes to sit on the bed anyway. She smiles hesitantly.

"I wish I knew what kept bad dreams away," she says forlornly.

"There are worse things," Regina observes.

"Like what?"

"Not being able to wake from them."

"Oh," Snow says, and Regina almost wishes Snow could know what it is like to live with so much loss and regret that you can't wake from. But just almost.

"Go to bed, Snow," Regina says tiredly, but the girl shakes her head.

"I'll stay here," the girl says softly, but determined. "I'll make sure you wake up if you have another bad dream."

Oh, Regina thinks faintly, as Snow moves into the bed next to her. In another life, in a dream, she might have imagined Daniel and herself having a daughter somewhat like Snow. Yes. If she closes her eyes, she can even imagine this is that dream, that life, that her daughter is sleeping next to her because she doesn't want her mommy to have a bad dream.

Yes.

She closes her eyes with Snow's hand hesitantly in hers and lets sleep come; she doesn't have another bad dream that night.

(But waking up, that may take decades, a curse and another child to accomplish for Regina – only time can tell on that.)


	27. Chapter 27

Prompt:  
_a drunk Charming causing problems aboard the Jolly Roger harharhar_

Her husband being drunk isn't a new sight to Snow as such. It has happened on occasion (after she told him he was going to be a father, when the dwarfs took him to a tavern, when Red and Granny took him to a different tavern, and so on) back in their land, and once or twice in Storybrooke.

But it still isn't a sight she was expecting to see on the Jolly Roger in Neverland – and especially not with her daughter in the same condition, sitting on the deck and trying to sing a rather bawdy song Charming has apparently taught her.

(Okay, maybe they do have some reason to celebrate, Henry being safe back with them – but they still have the rather serious problem of how to return home to tackle. Honestly, she's only left them alone for a few hours while it was her watch with Henry, and this is what she finds?)

Hook is watching them, looking half amused and half sad at the amount of empty bottles strewn around.

"They got into the rum," he tells Snow. "Been at it for a few hours. Drove Regina off first with bobbing for apples in rum suggestions, then Gold with a lot of questions about how to look after glittery skin. Your charming husband best replace that haul of alcohol. How am I going to be a respectable pirate without a stash of rum?"

"You have far too much fun being anything but respectable," Snow counters, as Charming looks up and spots her.

"Snoooooooooooooooow!" he says delightedly. He manages to get to his feet, walking towards her with the most ridiculous grin. She crosses her arms as he reaches her.

"You're drunk," she observes.

"Yes," he agrees easily. Hook's got gooood rum. Still not mate, but good rum."

"Good," Emma agrees. She looks down at the bottle in her hand. "Why's the floor moving?"

"Because it's a deck and you're on a boat, darling," Hook says and Charming lifts finger. He has to aim a few times before he manages to point it sternly at Hook.

"My daughter. Not your darling," Charming says, then turns to Snow again with his finger still lifted and looks down at her with an expression that manages to be both hazy and lusty. "Snow's my darling. Darling Snow. Snooooow."

He pokes her nose with his finger before dragging it down her lips, her chin, her neck and the exposed skin of her chest until he reaches the top of the pirate's shirt she has on. Very slowly, he pulls at the cloth with his finger.

"Charming!" Snow says sternly, but he simply grins.

"Liked that last night," he says cheekily, but luckily in a low enough voice that Emma can't hear.

"Go to bed," Snow tells him, putting her hand around his finger and lowering it before he can make his intentions even clearer than they already are from the way Hook is looking at them. "I'll get our daughter to bed, then I will find you."

"You always do," he says with certainty, then staggers unsteadily below deck.

Emma is luckily in the stage of drunkenness where she doesn't mind being led, and so Snow manages to take her daughter to bed with only minimal trouble. Henry is sleeping as well, and Emma gulps loudly when noticing her son.

"Told dad I was afraid," Emma mutters, and Snow looks up.

"What?"

"Lost you," Emma says slowly and each word over-pronounced, as if overcompensating for her slightly slurred voice. "Lost Neal. Lost Henry. Henry found me. Lost Neal again. Lost Henry again. Found Henry. Don't want to lose you again."

"You're not going to," Snow says warmly, kissing her daughter's forehead. "We won't let that happen."

"That's what dad says," Emma says. She closes her eyes. "Said a lot of things. Then taught me lullabies."

"Didn't sound like you were singing a lullaby when I joined you."

"Ran out of lullabies."

"Ah," Snow says, as her daughter closes her eyes and drifts off. Lullabies, fears and rum. Hmm. A suspicion is beginning to dawn on her.

She walks into the cabin she and Charming are sharing to find her husband sprawled across their bunk with his eyes closed. As she approaches, he lifts a hand and grabs hold of her, pulling her down to be sprawled across him.

"Mmmhmm," he says happily.

"Charming," she says, as his hands roam her body lazily. "Just how drunk are you?"

He smiles, but his eyes remain closed. "A bit."

"A bit drunk and a lot acting," she concludes, drawing her hand across his chest. "Why?"

He sighs, then opens his eyes to look at her. "Because after everything she has been through, Emma needed someone to get drunk with and just... Let go for a bit."

"With you there to catch her?"

"Always," he vows. "Even if I have to drink Hook's whole stash of rum to do so, I'll always be there for her."

She just nods faintly. Oh, how she loves him. She always does, but in moments like this it hits her all over again like anew, almost overwhelming her. Charming. Loving, patient, always there Charming, who drinks rum with his daughter to be there for her in every way he can.

As she looks at him, he lifts his head and kisses the side of her neck, moving his mouth upwards to her ear and murmuring a few lines from the bawdy song against her skin.

Yes, Snow decides, feeling his finger pull at the top of her shirt again and not stopping it this time.

Yes. She'll give him something to sing about all right.


	28. Chapter 28

Prompt:  
___Snow and Charming celebrating Snows birthday for the first time_

Counting down the days to their birthday is something Snow thinks most normal people do. She does it as well, but for an entirely different reason.

She dreads this day. Oh, she has explained to Charming she doesn't want a celebration, explained it over and over, but she isn't sure he truly understands. And then there is everyone else, who have only heard her wish about not wanting a birthday celebration and not the reason why, and thus might just think it fake modesty and arrange something after all.

She doesn't blame them either. They'll want her to have a happy day, like birthdays should be. They can't understand that it never will be. This will always be the day she lost her mother, and nothing can change that.

So when the day arrives and she is woken by a gentle hand on her shoulder, she immediately fears the worst.

It's Charming, putting a hand to his lips as she looks at him. The room is dark and the light from the windows still faint, telling her it must be before dawn.

"Charming, what..." she starts, but he puts the finger to her lips now.

"Shhh," he says softly. "Just trust me."

With her life and with her heart, she doesn't say, just nodding faintly instead. She gets up, noticing the clothes and cape he's put out for her. It's not a gown, but a lovely riding outfit, making her realize whatever this is about, it is not a party. He is dressed somewhat informally as well, she notices, as he helps her get dressed.

He takes her hand as she finishes, leading her out of the room and through the quiet hallways to the kitchen. Johanna is there, smiling a little sadly.

"It's all ready, Your Royal Highness," she says to Charming, who smiles.

"Thank you, Johanna," he says solemnly, squeezing Snow's hand. "Grumpy knows where we'll be if something comes up."

Johanna nods, leaning forward to hug Snow quickly. "Have a good day."

Snow just nods, not quite trusting her voice. She follows Charming as he tugs at her hand, leading her to the back entrance and then outside. Two horses wait there, packed up and saddled. Without a word, Charming helps her up on one and then mounts the other and they set off.

The sun starts to rise as they ride, coloring the sky and the clouds in vivid shades of yellow, orange, red. It's a beautiful sight, and Snow lets herself enjoy it as she follows Charming. He clearly has a destination in mind, leading her into the forest until they finally reach a small cottage.

"It belonged to a shepherd my mother knew," Charming tells her as he helps her off the horse (though she doesn't need it, it's still nice to slide down into his waiting arms). "After we took back the kingdom, I bought it off him. He needed the money and I thought it might come in handy one day."

"For what?" she asks, as he keeps his arms around her and looks at her intently.

"For privacy. For today," he says and she sighs.

"You know what today is. I don't want..."

"This isn't a birthday celebration," he says quietly. "This is just you and me and a day out in the forest with no one else around. Johanna packed food for us. We'll sleep here and tomorrow we'll return to the castle and that will be a day like any other."

"Charming..." she says, not finding the words. He might not understand her unwillingness to celebrate her birthday, not fully, she thinks, but he is willing to honor it. And yet he is trying to make this a good day, a happy day or at least the best day it can be.

"I love you," she manages instead and his lips curve into a smile as she leans froward and kisses him. Softly at first, but it soon turns into something far more passionate and breathless as she links her hands behind his back and he lifts her up.

Her mother would have loved him, Snow thinks distantly. Yes. Her mother would have loved him because he loves her so much, because this is true love and happiness and all a mother could want for her daughter.

In fact, her mother might even have considered it the best birthday gift her daughter could ever get.


	29. Chapter 29

Prompt:  
_Snow and Charming think about what Emma will be like in the days after she's born_

Emma sleeps and Snow doesn't, watching her daughter with unwavering attention. Not out of fear – that was the first day after the birth as she kept waiting for Regina to strike at their child somehow, but nothing happened – but rather out of wonder.

This little child is their baby, her and Charming's. Their daughter.

Their impatient little daughter, Snow can already tell from how the baby cries when she wants food. Emma has that from her mother, since Charming has far more patience. But the temper, that might come from him.

This is going to be a headstrong, impatient girl you don't want to anger, Snow thinks fondly. Yes. She can see that already. It probably won't be made any better by the fact that Charming will spoil his daughter and raise her as proudly as he would a boy, and probably let her do the same things.

Fight. Ride. Master a sword and a bow both, Snow and Charming's daughter.

"You sneak out of our bed during the middle of the night," Charming says softly behind her. She hasn't even heard him come in, Snow realizes. She leans back as he wraps his arms around her. "I would be jealous of this new love of yours if I didn't love her also."

"Mmm," she agrees. "Don't think I didn't see you sneak out of our bed last night."

"Caught," he admits, smiling as he kisses her temple. "Hello, Emma."

Their daughter makes a soft noise in her sleep, clearly impervious to her parents gawking at her in awe. Maybe that's going to be their daughter also, Snow thinks – unaware just how loved she really is, even if they'll do their hardest to show her.

"She sleeps just like you," Charming observes fondly.

"And wakes just like you – far too early," she counters. He chuckles.

"I grew up on a farm," he says, but without any shame. He might be the prince now, but he was raised a shepherd. And so Emma will be raised a princess and a shepherd's daughter both, and Snow hopes it will keep their daughter grounded.

Most of all, she thinks she wants their daughter to have them both. Charming lost his father, she lost her mother, and both felt the loss of a parent acutely. Emma shouldn't have to – will not have to if Snow can help it. Emma will have a mother and a father both, and they will love her through all the years they may have together.

"What are you thinking?" Charming whispers against her ear.

"About Emma's life," Snow replies softly, lacing her fingers in his.

"I thought about that too," he says, and she isn't surprised. Charming has wanted this child so much she expects he started thinking about that the moment he learned they were going to have a baby. "I want to give her the world and keep her safe from it at the same time."

She chuckles, knowing exactly what he means. "I think the best we can do is give her what she'll need to deal with the world."

"Yes," he agrees, and she turns slightly to kiss the underside of his jaw. "Love most of all."

"Love most of all," she agrees, knowing very well what the lack of love can do. And whatever else Emma's life might bring her, she'll always, always be loved.


	30. Chapter 30

Prompt:  
_Ok, Cam, this is a challenge! AGAINST MEGAN LOL I want you to write about pregnant Snow and Charming swimming or entering the water in a lake and a single baby duck leaves its family to near them until it touches Snow's stomach softly with its beak (I guess all animals like and know Snow so it doesn't fear her at all) and Emma kicks in response. I need Snowing reactions to this too XD Sweet sweet atmosphere *_* _

The water is cool as Snow submerges herself in it, sighing softly as she does. Yes. Perhaps Charming was right and this is the perfect way to cool down on this hot summer's day. The heat certainly hasn't helped with the pregnancy, as she's beginning to show now for sure.

Charming dives into the lake a few feet away from her, breaking the water and then emerging further ahead. He grins at her as the water darkens his hair and clings to his skin. It's impossible not to smile back, and she swims towards him until she's close enough to touch.

It is he who reaches out and tucks a few strands of her now wet hair behind her ears. She treads water as he leans forward and kisses her, still with his lips upturned.

"Love you," he murmurs, not waiting for a reply before kissing her again. She's pretty sure he can feel the sentiment returned as she kisses him back, though – of course, she's even more certain he already knows from how the look in his eyes when she looks at him with all the love she couldn't hide even if she tried to.

She leans her forehead against his as they break the kiss, feeling wonderfully relaxed.

"Look," Charming whispers, and she shifts position to follow his gaze. They're not the only family here, she realizes. A duck with her little baby ducklings are also enjoying the lake, swimming across. As she watches them, one baby duck looks up and makes a soft noise.

She holds out her hand, and the baby duck swims towards them until she can feel it come to rest in her palm.

"You and birds," Charming says affectionately. It's another thing she loves about him – how easily he loves all parts of her, even the one who can communicate with birds and might raise eyebrows elsewhere.

The baby duck makes another noise, then dives and brushes against her stomach. For a moment she thinks nothing much of it, then she feels it. The baby. The baby is kicking, and she grabs Charming's hand.

"What?" he says, suddenly alert, then his lips part as she puts his hand on her stomach and he feels it too. "Snow..."

"Yes," she says, tears in her eyes. "Our baby just moved."

"Yes," he agrees and the happiness seems to radiate from him as much as the heat does from the sun. Even if he thinks this is a son, she know she'll love this daughter more than anything.

He pulls her against him as much as he can while still treading the water, then kisses her enthusiastically. The baby duck seems rather bored by this display of human behavior, Snow notes, swimming back to its family.

"I guess our baby is a bit of a bird person as well," Charming says a touch breathlessly against her lips, as she draws her thumb across his cheek.

"At least a duck person," she corrects, brushing his upper lip with her lower.

"Ducks it is then," he murmurs, kissing her nose softly.

She might not be able to foresee the future, but she does know him – and thus, of one thing she is certain. One day, Snow thinks, as her husband caresses her stomach and kisses her lips, he's going to take their daughter to see the ducks.


	31. Chapter 31

Prompt:  
_Emma and Hook hook up and Snow finds out and confronts Emma_

_The knock on the cabin door isn't entirely unexpected, and Emma simply opens without comment to let Mary Margaret in. In a way, she's glad it's not David, but in another way, the worst person to walk in on her and Hook kissing might just be Mary Margaret._

Her mother, but also her friend before that, who knows her far better than David and thus might ask far more complicated questions.

Sure enough, the first one is about the worst one Emma could imagine.

"Why?" Mary Margaret asks, and Emma sighs.

"I don't know," she answers honestly. "I know he's... He's Hook and he's trouble and you probably have a million reasons why he's all wrong and probably at least half of them I'll agree with, but... I don't know. It doesn't feel wrong."

Mary Margaret sits down in Emma's bunk, her face a mix of emotions Emma can't quite decipher. She almost wishes her mother would yell at her. This composure she isn't sure how to deal with.

"Emma..." Mary Margaret finally says. "I won't pretend he is the man I would have chosen for you."

Emma sighs, and sits down on the bunk also. "He's not the man I would have chosen for me either. But whenever I chose someone, it always seemed to end badly."

"You're thinking of Neal," Mary Margaret says softly, and takes Emma's hand.

"Him too," Emma says, and tries not to think about being let go of twice. "Do you remember you once told me my walls might keep love out?"

"Yes," Mary Margaret says, smiling a touch sadly.

"You were right. I kept Graham out. When Neal returned, I kept him out too. It seemed right, yet it didn't do any good," Emma says slowly, feeling the dull ache of past hurts. " If I am going to get my heart broken either way, at least I can let the walls down and have something good too. I don't know what this... This thing between me and Hook is. Maybe it will end as badly as everything else seems to, but..."

"Maybe it won't," Mary Margaret says, squeezing Emma's hand. "And if it does... Your father and I are going to be here for you for whatever you need, including going after a pirate."

Emma chuckles, looking up at her mother. "I bet David would enjoy that."

"He would," Mary Margaret says affectionately. "But if this... Thing, as you call it, turns out to be right for you, David will still love you. Hook will never be the man your father would choose for you, but it's your choice that matters, Emma. We'll love you regardless."

"I thought you were going to yell at me," Emma confesses, feeling strangely light and almost happy.

"I shouted at the pillow for a few minutes," Mary Margaret confesses, smiling guiltily. "Then I went and yelled at Hook. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Emma simply says. Somehow it feels right that her mother would shout at the man who stuck his tongue down her throat, even if it was with encouragement. (And she did the same to him, to be fair.) "You know those walls I mentioned?"

"Yes?"

"You're inside them," Emma says, looking down at where their fingers are entwined. "Both you and dad."

"I know," Mary Margaret says achingly softly. "So does he."

"I do," David agrees, and Emma looks up to see her father leaning against the doorway with his arms folded. "Everything all right here?"

"Yes," Emma says, feeling Mary Margaret look at her. It is all right.

"Right," David says, looking not the least bit reassured. "You wanna tell me why your mother yelled at the pillow and then at a certain pirate?"

Uh oh, Emma thinks – and yet, somehow this feels right too, with her father looking ready to fetch his sword any minute for his daughter's sake. It is right. It is all right, because even if this is another wrong choice for her, she is going to be all right, she knows. She has her family to make sure of it this time.

(And maybe, just maybe, the one she wouldn't have chosen, the one who looks all wrong – is the right one.)


	32. Chapter 32

Prompt:  
_Charming comforting Snow after a nightmare (FTL)_

She wakes with a soundless cry, feeling as if she can't breathe, as if the heat is pushing all the air from her body, as if the flames are caressing her skin, as if she's trapped, trapped, trapped...

"Hey, hey, hey," a voice says gently, and she feels cool hands on her arm and then her shoulder. "Snow?"

It's Charming, she realizes, leaning over her with a worried expression that she can make out even in the darkness of the room.

"You had another nightmare," he says. It's not a question, but she still nods. "I had hoped they had stopped by now."

"They will," she reassures him, reaching out to touch his cheek. She tries a smile, but she can feel it falter. Her breath feels too rapid still, and her heart seems to pound in her chest.

"They will," he says with more certainty – or perhaps he merely fakes it better. "Was it the same one?"

"Yes."

He sighs, then pops himself up on an elbow and lets the other hand caress her earlobe softly. "Tell me about it."

"Flames," she says, shivering even if it isn't a cold night and the covers are warm. He leans down and kisses her shoulder as she continues. "It's a burning room and the flames are reaching for me."

"They can't touch you here," he says, as he always does. He kisses the side of her neck and she lets out a slow, shuddering breath.

"There is no way out," she continues, as his hand moves up and down her arm. "I'm trapped."

"You're free of it now," he whispers, kissing her temple.

"You're not there," she says, feeling the words and the memory like a sharp pain in her heart. He is her heart, after all, just as she is his.

"I'm here," he counters gently, cupping her face with both his hands. She looks up at him, feeling his gaze on her like an anchor. Faintly, she nods, and then he kisses her. Softly, caressing her lips with his own more than anything, and she closes her eyes and lets herself just feel.

This isn't a burning room. This is their bedroom. There are no flames. There's only the heat of their bodies. She isn't trapped; she can wake up, and does wake up every time.

And Charming, Charming's with her. She can feel it, feel his body against hers, feel his lips brush hers as he kisses her leisurely. This isn't a nightmare. This is what she wakes up to, this is her life with her husband that has just begun.

This is going to be happily ever after, she thinks; at least, that's the dream she clings to.


	33. Chapter 33

Prompt:  
_Charming has problems moving around an unfamiliar palace. Snow takes him on a tour and ends up leading him to her private garden (like a hiding spot of hers when she was little) via a secret staircase. Maybe they take advantage of the privacy they have outside their bedroom? (; _

Palaces, Charming has come to conclude, are clearly meant to keep its ruler(s) in good mental shape by being outright mazes. Okay, maybe it's the shepherd in him used to one simple building that finds so many hallways a challenge, but surely they are meant to be navigated without a guide. Even if it is just the second visit.

Yet here he is, being led around the palace by hand, Snow's hand as it is her palace. She walks it as securely as she did the forest, as she now does their palace, and he rather thinks she always finds a way to make herself a home wherever she finds herself. He doesn't adapt as easily, but he's beginning to think the only thing he needs to be home is her hand in his.

"And that was the kitchen," she says softly. "Next time you want to make me breakfast, maybe you won't get lost on the way."

"Don't count on it," he mutters and she smiles. "It's very easy to get lost in this place."

"I always found it hard to hide in this place," she says softly, clearly remembering something from the past.

"Did you want to hide often?" he asks curiously, squeezing her hand lightly.

"Not often," she says distantly, as if she is only half here and the rest of her is reliving something a long time ago. "At least not when I was very young. As I got older and the crown got heavier to carry..."

He nods. He may not have been raised a prince, but he's learned a lot about the burdens of a crown in the time since he was forced to replace his brother.

"I had one place," she says suddenly, her attention returning to him. "Come."

With that, she tugs at his hand and he follows her through hallways, trying to keep track of the direction and failing. Eventually, they come to a staircase that he only realizes is that when Snow removes the tapestry.

They step into a garden completely enclosed by high walls, though not roofed in so the darkening sky is visible. The garden itself shows clear signs of not having been tended for a long time, but the wildness of it somehow fits Snow, he thinks. It is beautiful as it is, plants growing wild and flowers covering what was once a path.

"This was my mother's," Snow says. "She took me here when I was a girl. My father didn't know of it. No one else did either. So this was where I came to hide."

"It's beautiful," he says as he steps closer. "Thank you for showing it to me."

This is Snow sharing another piece of her life, he knows. This is her hiding spot, but now she's ensured he will always find her here if he wants to. She's not hiding from him.

"I love you," she says simply and hearing it on her lips still makes his heart skip a beat. As he smiles, she links her hands behind his neck and pulls him down for a kiss, capturing his lips with hers. He parts his lips as she tugs insistently on them, and her tongue brushes his as he presses her closer with his hands on her waist.

He feels breathless when they finally break the kiss minutes later, and he realizes he's somehow backed her back against a wall covered by ivy.

"So no one can find us here," he says, swallowing as he watches her chest rise and fall as she breathes.

"What do you propose we do about that?" she whispers huskily, her breath brushing his lips as he presses his forehead against hers.

"This," he says; and kisses her again as he lifts her up and presses her more firmly against the wall.

(Palaces, Charming later concludes, are clearly meant to be mazes, but that's all right. That just means it's possible to happily hide in them – oh so very happily, in fact.)


	34. Chapter 34

Prompt:  
_Prompt with 4 hints: 1. Charming is in a reunion focused on taxes, peasants' needs and so on and he is in the castle with Snow but very far from where she is now; 2. Snow craves Charming because of stupid pregnancy hormones and fights this need to no avail; 3. a bluebird lands in front of Charming alerting him of a very simple message - "I need you"; 4. Charming runs to Snow and she gives him an amazing blowjob that leaves him unsteady on his feet and her with a very satisfied grin. THANKS! _

Sometimes, Charming thinks that taking back a kingdom might be easier than running a kingdom. There always seems to be a meeting, or a council, or something somewhere that requires his presence but not his input. Not really.

On the face it, taxes and the current economic situation for the peasants would seem an important topic. If only they were discussing that, instead of discussing exactly what qualifies as a farmer. Listening to nobles debating if their vegetable gardens mean they are farmers too and should have say just makes him slightly irritable.

What makes it even worse is Snow. Yes, Snow, his beloved pregnant wife that he feels an urge to be with every minute of the day now. It's not just that he enjoys being in the presence of their child that is growing inside her (even if it isn't too visible yet). It feels like a start of an another adventure too, and adventures are best had with Snow.

Then there's also the matter of his wife's appetite – for him. Not that she's ever been particularly restricted in that regard before, but the pregnancy seems to have heightened her cravings.

Right. Best not to think of that, he decides, just as he becomes aware of the bird. It's watching him, tilting its head, and he knows right away it's one of Snow's. Making sure no one seems to be looking in his direction, he holds out his hand and the bird flies over. Sure enough, there is a message attached – for all Snow has tried, he hasn't mastered the bird tongue yet.

His heart skips a beat the minute he spots the message. It's simple, to the point and very, very Snow in its directness.

'I need you.'

"Gentlemen," he says, and the nobles glance up at him. "I fear I have an urgent matter to attend. Perhaps we can pick up what constitutes a vegetable at some other time."

With that, he strides out with as much commanding presence as he manages. The moment the doors shut behind him, he practically runs through the castle to get to their bedchamber.

"Snow?" he calls as he enters. There is no answer. "I got your message, are you..."

Hands go over his eyes from behind, and something presses against his back. It's Snow, he realizes. Snow, breathing rapidly close to his ear in a way that makes his hairs stand on edge.

"Charming," she says, her voice low. He has an urge to turn around and press her against the nearest wall to kiss her firmly, but instead he simply waits to see what she'll do.

She tip-toes to press a kiss against the back of his neck, and he parts his lips in anticipation. But she doesn't move to kiss him. Instead she lowers her hands, taking his hand with one of them and leading him towards the bed.

He follows, sitting down on the edge of the bed as she looks at him, and then pulling her onto his lap. She smiles faintly as he angles his head to have his lips close enough to hers to feel her breath.

"You needed something?" he asks.

"Mmhmm," she says, as he brushes his lips against hers so featherlight it's hardly a touch at all.

"You weren't very specific in your request," he goes on, lifting a hand to cup her breast through the think cloth of her dress. "You need me for what, exactly?"

"To sit right there," she says, grinding her hips downwards to make him moan softly.

"And...?" he prompts.

"Just that," she says, sliding off his lap. He watches as she pulls a pillow down between his legs before kneeling on it, and looking up at him with a gaze that leaves him as breathless as her clear intention.

"Snow..." he manages to say. "You don't have to..."

"Oh, but I want to," she says and he gulps. "How does it feel when you use your mouth and hands on me, seeing the pleasure it gives me?"

"Wonderful," he gasps, as one of her hands finds the waistline of his pants and the other strokes the bulge in his pants.

"Exactly," she says, smiling up at him with bright, bright eyes. He watches, completely captured, as she undo his pants expertly and pushes them down below his hips. She pauses there, just watching for a moment before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the skin just above his underwear.

If his breath wasn't already shallow already, it sure would be now. He digs his fingers into the bed covers, knowing trying to relax is rather hopeless Especially as her fingers are now pulling at his underwear and before he knows it, there are no more cloth barriers.

She takes him in her hands firmly, but not too hard. He swallows as she draws her hand up and down the length of him once, just once and agonizingly slowly at that. Then he can't hold back the moan as she presses a kiss to the tip of his manhood, and then parts her lips over it.

"Snow," he moans. "Snow..."

The only response he gets is her mouth moving down lower, as far as she can manage before moving slowly up again. The feeling of her mouth on him lures a number of undignified noises from him, he can faintly tell, but he doesn't really care. Screw dignity, though he'd much rather screw Snow.

As she continues, it's all he can do to focus on his breathing and try not to drown in the pooling of sensations in his head. He peeks down at her sometimes too, the image of her on her knees between his legs thrilling him as well.

Her tongue circles the head as she pauses, her hand lightly pumping him at the base. That's what finally defeats him, and his whole body jerks as he comes. He's left panting as Snow rises to her feet again, walking over the basin. She leans herself and sips some water, and he simply watches. He can see her smile as she finishes, a satisfied grin that makes him smile to.

He pulls his underwear and pants back up, and manages to walk over to her, if somewhat unsteady. She leans back against him as he puts his arms around her.

"I guess you had me," he says, and she laughs before turning her head and meeting his kiss. She tastes of clean water as he deepens the kiss, drinking her in greedily.

"I'd like to make a reply," he murmurs breathlessly. against her lips. "I need you."

"For what?" she says, and he moves his hands down to her hips and thinks about all the wonderful things his hands on her skin might do.

For everything, he doesn't say. To feel alive, to feel like Charming, to have a heart, since she's claimed his.

"I can't say," he says, and her breath catches as he lowers his head to suck on a spot by her collarbone. "I think I'll have to show you."

So he does; more than once, in fact.


	35. Chapter 35

Prompt:  
_Okay since you are doing prompts and you are so nice about doing some of mine before. I need you to write about Snow telling Charming about what Gepetto did. Since we didn't see it on the show I want to know Charmings reaction. Thanks_

Snow nestles closer to him and lays her head on his chest, and Charming kisses the top of her head lovingly. Her breath steadies as he listens to it, drawing his hand slowly up and down her back while enjoying the feel of her skin and her presence.

She feels closer tonight, after she told him about going to Regina and the state of her heart, after she let him in. Her fear and depression has seemed like an abyss between them the last few days, and he's tried so hard to be patient and just be there for her until she was ready.

Now he can truly be there with her and for her as she finds her way out of the dark. He knows she will; she's Snow.

"David?" Snow asks, lifting her head and looking at him.

"Yeah?" he says softly, pausing his hand on her lower back.

"There is something else I wanted to tell you," she says quietly and sadly. "It's about the wardrobe."

He frowns. "I thought I fixed the shelves."

"No," she says, pressing her hand against his chest. "The wardrobe that took Emma."

In a flash, he remembers it as he gently eased Emma into it. What saved their daughter and took her away from them at the same time. The wardrobe.

He swallows. "It took two?"

She gasps. "Yes! How did you know?"

"I didn't," he says slowly. "I wasn't sure, at least. But I remember Geppetto's boy Pinocchio. Today he was as old as a man before the Blue Fairy gave him new life as a boy again. He couldn't have aged here. None of us did."

"You're right," Snow says slowly. "Geppetto carved the wardrobe on the condition that Pinocchio be sent through as well."

David closes his eyes. In a flash, he imagines easing both Snow and Emma into the wardrobe. He can see himself tell them goodbye, see Snow's heartbreak at leaving him but joy at having Emma. He can see himself claimed by the curse with a smile that they got away. And 28 years after, he can see himself embrace Snow and watch his grown daughter, and see that they have 28 years together rather than 28 years apart.

"David?" Snow says, and he opens his eyes to see Snow look at him with tears in her eyes.

"You could have gone with her," he says, and she nods while swallowing. "I'm so sorry, Snow."

He is. Sorry even more than he is angry, which is also substantially. On one hand, as a father, he can understand. But still...

"Or you could have," she points out and he draws a sharp breath at that. He didn't even think of that. 28 years away from Snow, but with Emma. 28 years with...

"Or if Emma had come later, we could have gone together," he says, and Snow closes her eyes. He can practically see her imagine as he does. "We could have raised Emma together."

"Seen her first steps," Snow says, her eyes still closed.

"Heard her first word," he says, closing his eyes as well. Yes. He can imagine it, imagine the baby look up at Snow and try for mama.

"Woken up by her crying too many nights," Snow goes on.

"I'd sung her back to sleep," he murmurs. All the lullabies he knew he would gladly have given Emma every night of his life, and invented a few too if it made her sleep.

"Until she would be old enough to come into our room and demand bedtime stories instead," Snow says, the sorrow in her voice almost staggering him.

"She would have been just like her mother," he says gently, leaning down to kiss Snow's face blindly, feeling the salt of her tears as he does. "Going for what she wants."

Snow makes a noise that seems to be a sob and a laugh both. "You would have taught her how to ride, and she would probably have enjoyed it more than the balls. She would have been just like you too."

He swallows. For a moment, they say nothing, both too lost in the images. Then slowly, Charming opens his eyes and touches Snow's cheek with his hand. Her eyes open too, revealing tears and heartbreak.

"We didn't go with her," she says quietly. "She grew up alone."

"She has us now," he says, biting back the anger that he feels over how Emma grew up. The anger he'll always feel, he knows, but it won't help anything.

Snow nods slowly, and he kisses her gently. What could have been won't help. What they have now is what they have to make a future of.

And yet – for one moment more, Charming lets himself imagine that this is their bed in their land, that their baby is sleeping in her nursery and that 28 years haven't been lost. 28 years are waiting, Emma growing into them with her mother and father right there. Yes. He can imagine it, he can see it.

Then he lets it go.


	36. Chapter 36

Prompt:  
_Charming telling Emma a story from his childhood while on the boat to Neverland. _

A farmer is not meant to sleep on a boat, David is pretty sure. The boat keeps rolling softly, something he got used to deal with while walking, but finds far more troublesome while trying to sleep.

Snow is already sleeping, curled up against him with a hand resting on his chest. The movement of the ship doesn't seem to bother her, or perhaps she is simply too exhausted to care. It's been a long day for her too, he knows. A very long day for them all, and yet he can't sleep.

Gently, he kisses his wife's forehead, then very gently her lips before easing out of the bunk. Snow makes a soft moan of protest, but doesn't wake. Quietly, he finds his clothes and heads out on deck.

It's a starry night, but the stars are all unfamiliar to him. An unfamiliar sky over an unfamiliar land, this Neverland. Yet as long as his family is here, there is nowhere else he'd want to be.

He's not alone, he notices. There is a lone figure standing by the stern of the ship, looking towards land. Emma.

He walks over slowly, coming to stand next to her. He says nothing, in case silence is what she wants. He just stands there to let her know she is not alone, and that he's there, should she want it.

"Did you ever camp out?" Emma suddenly asks. He looks up at her and she glances down. "Sorry, I just... Henry had been asking to go camping with me. He wanted to sleep under the open sky, but not without me. I'm just... Wondering how he's doing."

"I know," he says softly. "He's brave, Emma."

She nods, but she bites her lip too. "I should be there with him."

"I got lost once," David says after a moment, and she looks up at him. "I was about the age Henry is now. We'd lost one of our lambs in the forest. My mother and I were quite poor, so I knew every lamb was precious."

"It's hard to imagine you as a shepherd boy," she admits and he smiles easily.

"I wasn't always Charming," he jokes, and her lips curve upwards just a touch. "So yes, I was a shepherd boy and I went into the forest to find our lamb. I was terrified. There were wolves in the forest. There were even rumors the wolves had taken a boy and were raising him. But even as afraid as I was, I thought of my mother and went further in."

She listens, clearly wondering where his story is going, but also really listening to him. Just that makes him strangely happy. It might be a little thing, to have your daughter listen to you telling a story, but it's something he's not had yet, which makes it a great thing indeed.

"Eventually, I found the lamb," he says. "She was afraid too, and shivering. It was getting darker, and as I carried her through the forest I realized it would be night soon. If I tried to find my way in the dark, I would probably get lost."

"So what did you do?"

"I climbed a tree with the lamb and I sat there until morning," he says softly. "I thought of my mother the whole time. When I found my way back in the morning, I was so proud I had saved our lamb and been brave. I felt like quite the hero."

"I'm guessing you didn't get a hero's welcome," Emma says drily.

"My mother gave me a very stern talking-to, telling me no matter how poor we were, I would always be worth more than all the riches in the kingdom," he says softly. "I was so young, I didn't understand what she meant. I do now."

"Oh," Emma says faintly. Very gently, he puts a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Henry is going to think of you and feel brave," he tells her. "He's going to get through the night. We're going to find him, Emma. In this family we do."

"Mary Margaret told me something about you once," Emma says, and he smiles at the affection Emma puts into her mother's name. "She said you taught her never to give up."

He chuckles fondly, thinking of his wife. "She taught me a lot of things as well, trust me."

Emma nods, glancing up at him. She seems less anxious then when he joined her. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For giving me someone to think about," she says and leans against him. He holds her while they watch the stars in silence, waiting for the night to end.


	37. Chapter 37

Prompt:  
_Cam, new prompt directly from Ginny's new EW pics! XD MM and David have never been together *in that sense* so Charming discovers MM's apple-shaped tatoo only after Snow comes back from FTL and they're alone while Emma and Henry are away. I'd like to see Charming a bit torn by the fact she's wearing the proof of her love for him on her skin and, please, come up with an excuse as for why MM has it! LOL Thanks! *_* _

It takes him a few moments to realize just what he's looking at.

(In his defense, his mind is quite distracted. It is hard to think when he's got his wife home, on his lap in their bed, her mouth on his neck and her hands working the buttons of his shirt. It doesn't help that with her sweater finally out of the way, he has his hands on her naked back and the lace of her bra is brushing against his chest. Distracting. Wonderfully distracting.)

There is a tattoo on the inside of Snow's arm. It was definitely not there the last time he saw her naked or semi-naked, that is he certain. He's far too fond of touching or kissing her skin to have possibly missed that. It must be Mary Margaret's, and yet the shape is all too familiar to him.

An apple.

"What's this?" he asks softly, drawing his thumb across the ink buried in her skin.

Snow pauses, then lifts her head from his neck. She follows his gaze and for a moment, he can see Mary Margaret in her blush. Then she meets his gaze and there is all Snow in her defiance.

"A tattoo," she says, making no excuses.

"I see that," he says drily.

"Mary Margaret got it," Snow says after a moment.

"Why the apple?"

She smiles sadly. "Mary Margaret never liked apples. She kept having dreams about choking on them. She always thought maybe it was a repressed childhood memory."

"It wasn't," he says softly.

"No," she agrees. They both know what it was. "But Mary Margaret believed that."

"So why get a tattoo of something she didn't like?" he asks. She smiles again, warmer this time.

"To defeat it," Snow says. "To feel like she survived, to be brave."

Charming nods slowly, still keeping his thumb lingering on her tattoo. A part of him almost wants to erase it from skin, take away what she endured to keep him alive. But instead he leans down and kisses the spot lovingly, the part of him that admires her bravery and loves, just loves how fiercely she loves too. Enough to willingly take a poisoned apple.

She watches him kiss her tattoo through lowered eyelids, he notices, her breath catching.

"You don't hate it?" she asks.

"No," he says softly. "I hate what the apple did to you, what Regina did to you. But what this symbolizes – your courage, your strength, your survival? How can I not love that when I love you more than anything?"

She cups his face in her hands, smiling down at him with so much love he feels almost humbled by it. She touches the scar on his chin softly, and he knows she feels something of the same about the mark she left on him. "I love you, Charming."

As he leans forward to kiss her again, she pauses him with a finger on his lip.

"Did David Nolan get any tattoos I should know about?" she asks teasingly, as he presses a kiss against her finger instead.

"I could answer that," he says slowly, moving his hands to her waist as he lowers her against the mattress, "but I have a much better idea. Find out for yourself."

"I'd have to get you naked then," she murmurs, and he smiles.

"Exactly," he says, and leans down to kiss her.

(He doesn't, as it turns out. But they have a lot of fun establishing that for sure.)


	38. Chapter 38

Prompt:  
_AU Snowing and their first night with Emma putting her to sleep. (Based on when Snow said in 2x03 "you never even got to spend a night") _

Snow doesn't want to put her daughter down.

For the whole day, Emma has stayed in the arms of either herself or Charming. Neither of them really want to let go, as if fearing that if either puts her down, she'll gone. Maybe it's Regina's threats and the whispers of a failed attempt at casting a terrible curse. Maybe it's just first-time parent anxiety. Either way, they've held their daughter the whole day and not let go once.

Snow has found herself marveling at how Emma feels in her arms and how Emma looks in Charming's; and every time Snow has met Charming's gaze, she's known he feels the same way. Their daughter. This is their daughter, so long awaited and already so loved.

And now, now it is night. They should put Emma to bed, they are putting Emma to bed. They're just finding it hard to let go.

Charming's arms are linked around her stomach as Snow leans back against him with Emma in her arms. They're both watching the crib with the unicorn mobile above, as they have for what feels like an eternity.

Emma doesn't seem to mind. She's sleeping in Snow's arms as if that is all she needs, as if her mother's arms are far better than a royal nursery.

"You need sleep, Snow," Charming murmurs against her temple, pressing a soft kiss against it as well.

"I know," she murmurs back. "You do too."

And yet, neither of them make a move. They just stand there, Emma making a few soft noises in her sleep. So tiny, their little daughter, yet she'll grow to a wonderful woman, and somehow, Snow doesn't want to miss even a second of it. Not even this first night. Not when it feels like they came so close to losing it.

Her husband seems to pick up on what she's thinking, as he so often does.

"We can sleep right here," Charming whispers into her ear. "I'll let us some blankets and pillows and we can stay in her nursery all night."

She looks up at him, knowing he must see the love and the gratitude on her face, because his lips turn upwards. Softly, he kisses her.

"I'll get us what we need," he says, leaning down to kiss Emma's forehead gently. "I'll be back soon."

Snow watches him slip out the door, hearing him give a few instructions in a soft voice to the servants outside. Probably they'll find the royals wanting to sleep on the floor of their daughter's nursery quite strange, but Snow doesn't care. Doesn't care at all.

"Emma," she says lovingly, feeling the weight of their child in her arms. Their daughter. Their family. It is strange thing that happiness can feel so strong that it is almost unbearable, yet here she is holding it.

As Charming reenters the room with pillows and blankets, he gives her a soft smile and she nods. While he makes their bed, she finally leans over the crib.

"Goodnight, Emma," she says softly, kissing her daughter's forehead before lowering her into the crib – and their daughter sleeps on happily, unaware of how her mother and her father curl up in each other's arms on the floor next to her.

Spending the night here is more for their sakes than Emma's, Snow knows. Their daughter is sleeping happily, oblivious to the world. She won't even remember this, this first night in her nursery.

But they will. And one day they can tell her about the first night she spent her and she'll laugh at her silly, overprotective parents – but know she was so wanted that her parents couldn't even let her go the first day or let her sleep alone the first night.

Because to Snow and to Charming, Emma was all they ever wanted.


	39. Chapter 39

Prompt:  
_Snow dreams about the moment she saw Emma for the last time as Charming took her to the wardrobe. She wakes up in a rage and runs to Regina's house to confront her for having taken Emma's childhood away from her. _

(I had to change a few details of the prompt to be able to fill this - hope that doesn't bother you too much, anon!)

A long time ago – a lifetime and a curse ago – she used to have nightmares almost every night. Always the same. Always the burning room. And always, always she would wake the same way, with Charming by her side looking at her with so much concern and love. He'd light a candle and ease her back to sleep with words and touches, and the nightmares would lose their powers. Eventually they vanished altogether.

These dreams, the ones she's had since the curse was broken, they don't come every night, but still often enough. They are the same. They all have Charming holding Emma and a sword, giving her one last look before leaving. One last look at her daughter, and 28 years and a childhood is lost. And always, always then she wakes panting, feeling Charming's arms go around her while he simply holds her.

There are no words to ease these dreams, and he doesn't try. He feels the same loss she does, she knows. And so, the dreams aren't losing their power. They almost seem to be gaining strength, as Emma grows closer to her parents and what they could have had becomes clearer and clearer.

What they've lost. What was taken from them. 'Mom. Dad'.

And so, she has the dream again on the Jolly Roger, as if what Emma said has given the dream even more power. She awakes with a sharp gasp, with Charming murmuring and drawing her closer in his sleep. He doesn't wake though, and she carefully eases out of his arms.

What was taken from them, she thinks again. A sudden resolve comes over her, fueled by pain and exhaustion. She wants the dreams to go away, make them lose their power and she can only think of one way.

With that, she walks out of the cabin Charming and her share and find Regina's, knocking sharply. It doesn't take very long before the door opens, revealing a Regina who doesn't look like she's had much sleep.

"You took Emma's childhood from us," Snow says softly. "28 years, Regina."

Regina looks more surprised than affronted. "Has it taken you this long to come to that conclusion?"

Snow ignores the sarcasm, knowing it's Regina's default. "I can't get it back. Emma found us and broke your curse, but you took something from us we'll never get back."

"What is this, late-night guilt trip?" Regina says sharply, but for a moment Snow thinks that maybe, just maybe Regina looks affected.

"No," Snow says, feeling the exhaustion as if it's bone deep. "I just want the dreams about losing her to go away."

Regina looks at her, then something in her softens. "Being angry at me won't make them go away. I was furious with you and I still dreamed of Daniel."

Snow closes her eyes. She sways for a moment, leaning against the wall.

"Henry," Regina says suddenly. Snow opens her eyes to see the other woman look at her without any anger at all.

"Henry?" she repeats.

"Henry," Regina says again. "After I adopted Henry, most of my dreams faded. He helped. After I found something, it was easier not to think about what I had lost."

"Henry," Snow says slowly, and thinks of her grandson. Emma's son and Regina's son in one, and the reason they're all here together. Henry. What they've found. Their common ground.

"Yes," Regina says, softly and lovingly. It's not an apology – if Regina will ever offer one, Snow isn't even sure. But it still feels like an acknowledgment, and that's a start. And it is all Regina has to give right now, and maybe will be for a long time. Whatever else Snow is looking for, she won't find it here. She'll have to find it elsewhere.

So Snow just nods, and with that she leaves and finds her way back to her own cabin. Charming is still sleeping, but sighs softly as she nestles against him.

"What's wrong?" he whispers sleepily. "Another dream?"

"Yeah," she admits, and he kisses her shoulder softly. "Charming? Emma called us mom and dad."

"She did, " he agrees, his voice filled with happiness and sadness both.

One day, she thinks firmly and she closes her eyes to feel her husband's soft touches ease her back to sleep. One day what they will have found with Emma and Henry and each other again make what they've lost be easier to bear. One day the dreams will fade. One day.

Just not today.


	40. Chapter 40

Prompt:  
_Prompt for Advent calendar! Snow & Charming get into a fight shortly before Christmas, so Henry (and later, Emma) comes up with Operation Reindeer, wherein he tries to get them under mistletoe together, so they can make up in time before Christmas. :)_

Operation Reindeer, Henry calls it.

Not because Gramps or Grams have a lot in common with reindeers. They don't. That's the beauty of the name. Anyone else will just think it something to do with Christmas, so it's really a brilliant name for an operation to get his grandparents to 'kiss and make up', as he believes the saying goes. He's got the perfect way in mind for it too.

Which is why Emma walks in on him putting up mistletoe in every place he can think of, and she stops dead in her tracks and blinks.

"Okay, kid," she says calmly. "You want to tell me what this is about?"

"Gramps and Grams," Henry says, watching his mom carefully. She hasn't been all that forthcoming with details about why his grandparents are fighting, but he can tell she doesn't like it from how much she tries to look indifferent about it.

"Henry…"

"You said they needed to kiss and make up, so if we make them kiss, they'll make up!" he protests.

"It's not…" she starts, then looks at him. "Actually, that's so simple it might actually work."

He beams. "I call it Operation Reindeer."

"Don't tell me Snow White and Prince Charming also knew Rudolph," Emma groans, and he shakes his head.

"No, that's just silly. I call it Operation Reindeer because no one will suspect it's about them."

"Of course," she says, a slight smile tugging at her lips. "Brilliant. Apart from one fatal flaw."

"What's that?" Henry asks suspiciously.

"Exit strategy," Emma says.

"We need one?"

"No. We have to make sure they don't have one."

II

Trapped.

Of all the adversaries Charming has faced over the years, he has to admit his own daughter and his grandson might be among the most dangerous. Mostly because they can prey on his love for them, one of his fatal flaws. (The other is of course Snow.)

So here he is. Lured here under false pretenses about Christmas gift shopping and then locked into the apartment by his own daughter and grandson. His only slight consolation is that he isn't alone in his fate.

Snow is here too, looking aggravated. And while he is still angry with her, he cannot help but feel a slight tickle of amusement at her obvious aggravation.

"I can't believe this," she says, and he folds his arms.

"She's a daughter of a bandit and a shepherd," he says drily. "Cunning and patience in one. I can."

He can see her lips turn slightly upwards and knows that somewhere deep inside, Snow is in fact thrilled that their daughter cares enough to do this, and rather amused at the method too. He certainly knows he is.

Snow lifts her gaze to him, and he swallows and looks away. A moment later he can hear her walk over to him.

"Charming," she says softly.

He clenches his jaw as she lifts a hand to his cheek, making him look at her.

"I'm sorry," she says, even if he knows that she isn't. Not really. She would do the same again.

"You could have died, Snow," he says harshly.

"It was worth it to save you," she counters, steel and a touch of anger in her voice. "Don't tell me you wouldn't do the same."

"I would…" he starts angrily, then trails off. Yes. She's got him there. He would do the same. "You would have been just as angry with me if I had pulled a stunt like that!"

"I would…" she starts angrily, then trails off and bites her lip. He's got her there, he knows. She would be angry, as he is angry, because she loves him as he loves her. "Charming…"

He steps closer, leaning his forehead against hers. "I love you."

"I love you," she agrees, and he lowers his hands to her waist to pull her even closer. A moment later she tip-toes and kisses him softly, a featherlight brush of lips.

"Mistletoe," she murmurs, and he glances up to see that there is indeed a sprig of mistletoe hanging above. Not just one, in fact. More like ten.

"That's probably Henry's contribution," he observes. It feels like something Henry would do. "Literally trying to make us kiss and make up, I suppose."

"Mmm," she agrees. "Not just settling for one kiss either."

"Smart kid," Charming says, and dips his head to kiss her again, and again, and again, then slanting his mouth across hers and kissing her until they're both breathing heavily.

"That was five," she breathes, digging her fingers into the cloth of his shirt. "You got five to go."

"Mmm," he agrees, and lifts her up. "Except there are at least four hanging in the kitchen too."

"Smart kid," she murmurs, and then she is kissing him while he presses her against the pillar and makes a note to get Henry a very, very nice Christmas present.

II

In the end, Operation Reindeer is a rousing successes, Henry finds. Gramps and Grams get back to their usual selves, smiling and holding hands and making eyes at each other, and they all have a lovely family Christmas that makes even Emma smile and laugh.

All the mistletoe is suspiciously missing, though, but Gramps assures him that they kept count of them all and that they didn't go to waste.

That's good, Henry thinks. He just wonders if they also liked the mistletoe bouquet he put in their bedroom.


	41. Chapter 41

Prompt:  
_The Charmings go shopping (that sudden style change after 2x09) and have a nice albeit silly family day._

The key to a successful battle, Charming knows, is strategic planning and room to improvise. The combination of having plans and yet being open to exploit opportunities is what can win you a kingdom.

Or in this case, ensure a smooth shopping experience for all.

Snow found his planning the night before funny, giggling through his drawing up of floor plans and composing of mission briefings for the whole family. (In fact, the only way he could stop her laughing was to kiss her – not that he minded. Oh no.) But this morning she has managed to compose herself, looking serious and even giving him a mock salute he's going to have to kiss her for later.

Emma just raises an eyebrow as he hands her her mission plans and floor map, while Henry looks suitably impressed.

"Why is it called 'Operation Dragon', Gramps?" Henry asks.

"Because weekend shopping is like facing a snarling beast that can devour you," Charming answers smartly and Snow gives his arm a light smack.

"Couldn't agree more," Emma mutters, and his heart swells at this unexpected similarity with his daughter. "Why do we have to go shopping for clothes?"

"Because all the clothes I own are very…" Snow starts, clearly searching for the right way of saying 'not quite the style of a princess turned bandit turned ruler of a kingdom and wife'.

"Cute," he suggests, and she gives him a look.

"I just think it's time for a change," she says softly instead, and Charming takes her hand and thinks about all the things that have changed. He has his family back, finally, but so many things aren't as he imagined them when Snow first told him she was expecting a child.

"Hmm," Emma says begrudgingly. She gives him a look. "I suppose you're going to tell me you need a change from flannel?"

"I need a change from David Nolan," he says, and Snow squeezes his hand lightly.

"Don't worry," Emma says softly. "You're definitely different from David Nolan."

Not quite how he imagined the first ever compliment from his daughter, he thinks. But he'll take it.

II

In the end, not everything goes according to plan. It never does. Henry gets lost on purpose, blaming it rather unfairly on Charming's excellent drawing skills. Emma ends up buying a new toaster before Snow can drag her into a clothing store, and Charming only accomplishes two out of three planned stealing-kisses-from-the-wife side missions. (But one of them is a make-out session while she's meant to be trying on some clothes, so that's all right.)

Overall though, Operation Dragon succeeds. They all end up with new clothes, and as they drive home, Henry falls asleep against Emma's shoulder and Emma falls asleep against the window.

"I think we wore out the children," he whispers, and Snow smiles faintly. She puts her hand on his thigh and squeezes lightly.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For making it silly," she says and smiles at him so lovingly his breath catches. "I know what you were doing. It's the first thing we've done together as a family and you knew I might make a big deal out of it and freak out Emma."

He says nothing, which Snow of course knows is as good as admitting it.

"So you made it silly," she goes on, smiling at him. "You let them laugh at you and have fun. You let them relax."

"Strategic thinking," he says seriously, but he knows the faint smile on his lips is ruining his attempt at seriousness.

"Mmm," she agrees. "Good planning and room to improvise, as I recall."

"As I was taught by a princess who had stolen her father's books on the art of warfare," he comments and her smile turns luminous. "She was quite the bandit even in her early years."

Snow gives him a mock glare quite ruined by the quick kiss she presses to his shoulder. "So what's the final plan this evening, my victorious prince?"

He glances in the mirror, making sure Henry and Emma are still out.

"You and me," he says softly, smiling at his wife, the woman who won him over, "and room to improvise."


	42. Chapter 42

Prompt:  
_Prompt for advent calendar- could you write something about Snow and Charming and like, an average day at the castle? Just them maybe riding horses, practicing sword fighting, talking about different things, having a picnic lunch, whatever. Thanks! Ps, I really love your fanfictions :)))_

It's a strange thing, Snow reflects, how easily a new life can become routine.

She had one, back in the forest. Her bandit routine. It changed when she met him, went from bandit to wife.

She likes this new routine.

Every morning she wakes up to Charming's soft kisses, feeling his lips curve into a smile against her skin as he notices she's awake. He always wakes first, being the shepherd of the two, and she finds that she loves being woken by him.

They usually make love then, waking their bodies up with caresses and mounting passion under the cocoon of the blankets. She never tires of it, never has enough of the feel of his skin against hers, the soft noises he makes when she moves while he is deep inside her, the strength of his hands as he steadies her when she falls against him, and the silence afterward when they nestle as they regain their senses.

She knows the servants gossip about the appetite she and Charming have at breakfast, but it's the sort of gossip smiled at. What else is to be expected from a true love couple, after all?

The rest of the morning and afternoon is usually devoted to ruling the kingdom. Charming is working on improving farming through the kingdom while Snow is working on trade agreements with other kingdoms. Every now and then, like a shadow, a mention of Regina planning something will come up and Snow will feel the familiar sense of dread.

She doesn't tell Charming about it. She doesn't have to. He sees it, and always finds an excuse soon after to pull her away and simply hold her in a secluded corner.

It's like being haunted by a ghost, Snow finds, only the ghost lives.

Charming always takes her away for lunch, often taking her on a picnic in the forest. He knows the forest was her home for many years, and perhaps as a shepherd himself, he knows that castle walls can be stifling sometimes. So they eat under the open sky, surrounded by trees and the horizon, and Snow marvels at how free she can feel bound so tightly to another person.

(They sometimes make love then too, on the picnic blankets or even in the grass, and the sun kisses her skin just as he does until the heat is all she feels.)

In the evening, there might be balls to attend or host, public appearances by Snow White and Prince Charming that is also a part of ruling a kingdom. But every now and then there is nothing to attend or host at all, and Snow slips into something far less grand than her gowns and takes Charming's hand. Together, they head to that small walled-off part of their castle where they practise.

Charming usually practises his swordfighting; Snow her archery. Every now and then they switch it up or spar, but they never stop until they're both aching and sweaty. This is a part of ruling too, after all – being ready to fight. She knows that now, as she didn't when her mother told her the crown was heavier than it looked.

Whatever they spend the evening doing, they always end up linking hands and going to bed together. On a few nights they're too tired for anything but curling up together and falling asleep, but most nights they do enjoy their marriage bed. Or on a few occasions, their marriage floor. Sometimes it's quick and frantic, fueled by having to keep their hands off each other for a whole ball while unable to keep their gazes off each other, while other times it's a slow seduction of hands and lips and skin to skin until they're both lost in it.

It's routine, a wonderful routine with slight variations. She knows she could happily live out her days with this routine, with this life, with him.

She also knows she can't.

II

She wakes up first, before the dawn, slipping out of Charming's embrace to walk over to the window. On the horizon, she can see the first light, the faint change of color to signal that the night will soon change to day.

Changes. Always changes.

She stands there until she hears soft noises behind her, and Charming's hands slip around her waist to rest on top of her stomach. He dips his head to kiss her where her neck meets her shoulder, and she sighs happily.

"You're up early," he murmurs into her skin. "You're not usually."

It's a strange thing, Snow reflects, how easily things can change. How easily routines can be broken, and new ones established. Bandit to wife.

Wife to mother.

"That might change," she says, putting her hands on top of his and thinking of the new life growing beneath her skin, the child she learned yesterday that she is carrying. Their first. "Charming?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm pregnant."

Everything changes, Snow thinks as Charming draws a sharp breath. Even routines. The routine of her bandit life changed when she met him, and now the routine of their married life is going to change too.

They're going to have to find a routine as parents now.

She can't wait to find out what that might be like.


	43. Chapter 43

Prompt:  
_Prompt for advent calender: Despite her jealously/feigning indifference, Emma being fiercely overprotective of pregnant!Snow and/or the new baby. (Bonus points if magic is involved!)_

The news of Snow's pregnancy elicits a number of different reactions from the Charming household: Henry starts practising being a protective big brother to his aunt or uncle, Charming is charmingly ecstatic and annoyingly protective, and Emma… Emma, Snow isn't sure about.

Her daughter seems to almost not react at all. It might be to hide her pain over it, or it might be to protect everyone else's happiness when she herself is conflicted, Snow isn't sure. She is just sure that Emma Swan's walls have come firmly up again, and Snow has no idea how to begin to crack them.

II

The first crack appears with food.

The fridge always seems stacked with food whenever Snow checks it, which is quite peculiar since normally Snow does all the shopping herself. It's not Charming's doing, as he is far too busy on the new nursery. It's definitely not Henry.

So it is Emma doing the shopping. Which normally would mean a fridge full of easy to make and relatively unhealthy food, but not in this case.

And when Snow accidentally comes across a magazine with an article about healthy eating for pregnant women carefully circled in red in Emma's room, then she knows why.

II

Between the two of them, Charming and Emma seem to have found a way to prevent Snow from doing any physical activities at all. (Well, apart from the one physical activity that Charming not only encourages but downright initiates a lot of the time.)

Charming starts making breakfast every morning. Emma does dinner. Charming does the chores, Emma does the shopping. It even feels like they have some sort of secret agreement going on that if Snow as much as approaches some sort of task, one will immediately distract her while the other sneakily gets the task done.

It's infuriating and annoying and still manages to make Snow's heart ache with love for both of them.

II

The nursery gets its first inhabitant way before the baby arrives. It's an old and worn stuffed toy, a tiny rabbit that has seen better days.

Snow doesn't ask. Emma still tells.

"A boy at the orphanage gave it to me," Emma says so falsely casually it makes Snow wince. "He said it would watch over me. I didn't like falling asleep."

"He's lovely," Snow says softly. "Thank you."

The next day, one of Henry's old toys end up in the nursery as well, and Snow thinks this new baby might have more protectors than he or she will know what to do with.

II

The house gets baby-proofed one day Snow is away shopping for baby clothes with Ruby, and the obvious suspect turns out to be quite adamant about his innocence. She even tries to kiss a confession out of him, as that tactic has worked quite well in the past.

"I didn't do that," Charming protests. "I would have, but someone beat me to it."

Emma, Snow thinks, and can't keep the smile off her face – and feels Charming's lips curve upwards against hers as well.

II

When they get a picture of the tiny life growing inside her during one ultrasound session, the picture mysteriously vanishes from its frame for just an hour, just long enough for someone to make a copy and put it back.

Snow says nothing. Not even when she spies the copy of it in Emma's wallet. She just makes a note to always get additional copies from now on.

II

Charming talks to her stomach just as he would when she was pregnant with Emma, and he never goes a day without caressing her growing bump lovingly. So the one day he gets stuck in a storm, Emma walks into the bedroom with a look on her face as if she's prepared to face a dragon.

"David told me to hold the phone to your stomach while he talks," Emma says awkwardly.

Snow bites her lip. "Okay."

"And I have to…" Emma closes her eyes. "He negotiated one stroke and one pat as well."

"How many bear-claws did he have to promise you?" Snow asks, trying not to laugh.

"You don't want to know," Emma says.

II

Snow falls asleep while David talks over the phone to her stomach, and when she wakes she can feel Emma's hand still resting there. Not stroking, not patting, but lingering on her stomach without letting go.

II

She finds herself sleeping strangely peacefully in the last months of her pregnancy, far more peacefully than when pregnant with Emma. Part of it might be less fear of the future, with the shadow of Regina no longer hanging over them as it did back then. Charming's arms are the comfort and sense of home they've always been, but there is something more as well.

When she wakes one night, she knows what it is.

Around the bed, a faint sphere of gold flickers and she knows this is magic. A protective barrier.

Emma's, she knows. It has to be.

II

"Curious," Rumplestiltskin says when Snow asks him about it. "Miss Swan must be projecting a protective spell while she is sleeping."

"But why?"

"Magic runs on emotion, dearie. While sleeping, she might simply be guarding them less."

"And what sort of emotion would she need to feel for a spell like that?" Snow asks, but she already knows.

"Love," Rumpelstiltskin says, and smiles faintly.

II

The weeks before the baby is due, Charming and Emma seem to give up all pretense of not conspiring together and simply put up a damn schedule to make sure one of them is always with Snow.

Like father, like daughter, like overprotective family.

The schedule turns out to be a good idea after all, when the baby arrives two weeks early.

II

It's an easy birth. Or easier than giving birth as a curse is about to strike, anyway, and Snow has a healthy baby boy that seems to be surrounded by the love the minute he enters into the world.

(No wonder, given how loved he was before he even arrived.)

Charming smiles through happy tears and kisses the baby reverently over and over, Henry looks awestruck and happy, and Emma… Emma, Snow is very sure about now.

"Hi," Emma says as Charming slides the baby into her arms, and the baby looks up at her. Sister looks at brother. "I'm Emma."

Emma Swan's walls may have come firmly up, but they're all inside it now, the whole family – including Emma's little baby brother.


	44. Chapter 44

Prompt:  
_Snow is trying to bake for the holidays & keeps getting interrupted by Charming who has a taste for her_

It's their first Christmas as a family, and so, Snow is determined to make it as Christmas-y as possible. Decorations have been put up, a suitable tree has finally been found and it looks like Christmas in every room.

That just leaves the cookies. Emma suggested just buying them, a suggestion that earned her a harsh glare. No. It's Christmas. Cookies have to be homemade, and Snow is determined to do it.

It would just be easier if her husband more in mood for tasting cookies and less in the mood for nibbling on her.

II

"Charming…" Snow moans, as his mouth moves down her neck.

"Mmmm?"

"I have to…" she starts, but trails off as he presses her more firmly against the kitchen counter. Her head is falling back seemingly of its own accord as his strong hands settle on her waist and keep her firmly in place.

The dough, she tries to remember. She has to check if the dough is ready. She has to…

He turns her around in his embrace, his hands sliding down to the curve of her buttocks before lifting her up on the counter and looking up at her. As always, his gaze is so loving it leaves her breathless.

"Snow," he says, and suddenly, tasting her name on his lips seem like a Christmas treat she has to have.

She kisses him.

The dough is forgotten, but the kitchen counter still gets used.

II

Ginger, Snow tastes, as Charming's lips part against hers. Ginger for the gingerbread dough she was making and that she offered Charming a taste of. He licked it off her fingers and now she is licking into him, tasting ginger and sugar and that something that is just him.

Her hands are still white with flour, but he doesn't seem to care as she weaves her fingers through his hair. His hands are on her back, holding and pressing and caressing all at once. She can feel the heat of his palm through cloth, and it makes her skin long for his touch.

He makes a noise at the back of his throat as she presses herself closer and kisses him harder, and before she knows it she's in the air and then being pressed into the couch. Clothes are shed hurriedly, and then there is just skin, touches, heat and the fading taste of ginger from his kiss.

In the end, they end up just eating the dough while curled up together under a blanket on the couch, and then kiss the taste of it on each other happily.

II

The cookies are burning, Snow thinks faintly, as Charming thrusts into her again and she digs her fingers into his shoulder. The cookies are definitely burning; she can smell it.

She also doesn't care. Not with Charming deep inside her, and around her, his body against hers and his hands on her back and his mouth encasing hers. He's almost every sensation she can feel, and yet she wants more, needs more.

They were just going to share a kiss while the cookies were in the oven, a reward for having managed to keep their hands off each other and on the baking task at hand earlier. Just a kiss, only they never quite seemed to break it. Still haven't, and she whimpers into his mouth as he presses two fingers between them.

The cookies burn, and Snow gives into a very different kind of heat.

II

In desperation, Snow banishes Charming from home, which works really well until she discovers she's run out of sugar and has to run to the store to get some.

And of course Charming is there, looking sheepish and admitting he's been buying bear-claws for Emma and leaving them at the station every morning as a sort of secret Santa.

She's always loved Charming the man, but sometimes it feels like she's falling in love with Charming the dad as Emma allows him to fill the role more and more. Daddy Charming, and the expression on his face when he talks about his daughter becomes him so very, very much.

The sugar ends up not being bought. Snow yanks her husband with her to his truck instead, and tastes the sweetness of his kiss and the smoothness of his skin until they're both spent and panting.

II

"I thought you were going to make home-baked cookies," Emma observes on evening, glancing at the tray of cookies. "Aren't these from Granny's?"

"Oh," Snow says, trying to fight the desire to blush. "I, um… I was making them."

"Don't tell me they've all been eaten," Emma mutters darkly, narrowing her eyes at Charming as if suspecting him.

He merely smiles. "Says the bear-claw champion eater."

Emma looks ready to argue it, then sighs. "Fine. I guess some people are just insatiable."

"Yes," Charming agrees, giving Snow a look. "I definitely am."

Makes two, Snow thinks, and has the lack of cookies to prove it.


	45. Chapter 45

Prompt:  
_Snowing fic to accompany the 'Let it Snow' commercial from last holiday season_

Charming has come to endure balls as a sort of necessarily evil, considering diplomatic work officially known as entertainment and socializing. It's a way to build relations with other kingdoms, a way to keep nobles happy and contributing, a way to watch who isn't walking to who and who is sneaking off to whisper in corners.

It is, in other words, a part of the duty of a prince.

But there is one part of it that always, always thrills him.

Dancing with his wife.

Of course it is only to be expected that a husband dances with his wife during a ball, but he knows people whisper about how often and simply _how_ he and Snow dances. He's heard the whispers. Snow and the prince. They smile too intimately, they hold each other far too close and they look at each other as if dancing is merely foreplay.

He has to admit the whispers are pretty much spot on, and he couldn't care less.

So here he is, at the Christmas ball, dancing with his own wife. She is smiling, and he is pressing his hand into her back just a little more firmly than politeness dictates. He's also eating her up with his eyes, and that just makes her smile even more.

She is radiant, he thinks. There is no other word for it.

"Snow," he murmurs affectionately, and her smile widens.

"A lot of Snow," she agrees teasingly, and it takes him a moment to realize she is referring to the weather. It has been snowing all day, a blanket of white covering the land. It's beautiful, just like the Snow is his arms.

"Mmm," he says, and twirls her. "You know what I've always said?"

"What?"

"Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow," he quotes happily, half tempted to sing it at her.

"Charming," she quips, and they beam at each other. She is as happy to be in his arms as he is to be holding her, he knows, and sees it on her face also.

The music fades, and regretfully, he takes a step back. But she follows, quickly leaning forward and pressing her lips to his ear.

"You'll get your Snow later," she whispers, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. He can't even think of a clever response before she is gone, greeting her next dance partner with a polite smile.

He's going to hold her to that, he decides, and just hold her too.

II

He gets his Snow, and the snow doesn't let up either. He can still see it snowing through the window as he nestles closer to Snow, kissing her shoulder lazily. Her skin is still warm from his insistent caresses, and he can see faint marks from his mouth on the skin above her collarbone.

She sighs happily, kissing the scar on his chin. "Charming?"

"Did you secure the new trade agreement with King Midas?"

"Yes. The ball was a success in that regard."

She smiles at him. "In other too, I hope."

"You know they're not my favorite thing," he says quietly, and she nods. She knows. He is a shepherd in some ways still, for all Snow makes him feel like a prince.

"I always loved them when I was a girl," she says softly. "My father held such wonderful balls. They always made me feel like a princess."

"I'm sorry," he says awkwardly.

"Don't," she says, putting a finger across his lips. He kisses it. "When I dance with you at a ball, I feel like something far better."

"What?"

"Your wife," she says, and leans forward and brushes her lips against his. "I feel loved."

"You are loved," he murmurs, kissing her tenderly back. "Snow?"

"Mmm?"

"Dance with me."

She blushes, glancing down at their rather naked state. "Here? Now?"

"Here. Now," he confirms, getting out of bed and holding out a hand. She takes it, her unsure smile slowly growing slightly wicked as he pulls her to her. The light from the fireplace is flickering across her skin, and he finds that far more lovely than any extravagant gown.

"This is how I imagine dancing with you at every ball we're at," he whispers into her ear, catching her earlobe between his teeth and biting lightly.

She moans softly at that, and then again as his hands caress her side. "Charming?"

She seems to search for words, her eyes bright with love and lust and mischief, and then she seems to give up on finding them and pulls his head down for a kiss instead.

That manages to speak volumes too, he finds, as the dance becomes foreplay.

II

The next ball they're at, Snow catches his eye and smiles wickedly, and he knows just what she's thinking of.

People are going to whisper at this ball also, he knows, and couldn't care less.

And when she glides into his arms and the music starts, he closes his eyes and imagines dancing with his wife just the way he wants to.

Just the way he's going to.

Always.


	46. Chapter 46

Prompt:  
_Prompt for Advent Calendar: If you still have some open slots, I would love to read about Charming telling Snow his real name. Obviously she knew he was a shepherd before the events in the Lost Girl._

He's her fiance now, Snow thinks, and watches Charming as he sits down on the log next to her. Behind them, the dwarfs are bustling, so it's not quite a private moment, but close enough.

"Snow?"

It's strange, Snow considers, how well she feels like she knows Charming already. They've spent more time tying to find each other than actually together, and yet she can already read him. She knows what the the hesitance in his voice and the look he's giving her means.

So she waits.

"I should probably have told you this before he proposed," he goes on, watching the ring on her finger sparkle in the sunlight. He swallows. "Snow, I'm… I'm not really the son of King George."

She nods. "I suspected."

"You did?" he says, looking surprised.

"It was something King George said to me" she says softly.

"Oh," Charming says, searching her face intently, as if looking for any signs of anger. He sees none, she knows, and she gives him an encouraging smile. "He adopted my twin brother. James. My parents gave him up in return for a farm. They were poor, Snow. So they gave him up and kept me. I didn't even know about him until he was dead and King George was looking to replace him. I was just a shepherd then."

He looks down at his hands, and she takes one and squeezes lightly. He looks up at her, and his face softens. She moves closer, and he lifts his free hand to cup her cheek.

"You didn't want to, did you?" she asks softly, and he shakes his head.

"He threatened to burn our farm and kill my mother," he says, and she bites back a surge of anger. King George threatened Charming? _Her_ Charming? "He demanded I marry Abigail. I was going to do it but…"

"But I stole your ring," she observes, glancing down at it.

"My mother always said true love followed it," he says softly, and his eyes seem brighter than the sun as he regards her. "I'd like you to meet her one day."

"I'd like that," she says, and his smile is luminous.

"You're not angry?" he asks after a moment, his thumb stroking her skin lightly.

"Oh, I'm angry," she says, and his face falls for a moment. "At him. You're more of a prince than he has ever been a king, Charming."

"David," he says, and she tilts her head. "That's my real name."

"David," she repeats, trying it out. "I still like Charming better."

He laughs then, and impulsively, she pulls him into a kiss even knowing they have a possible audience of seven dwarfs. Somehow, she doesn't care that others see when it comes to her and Charming. She's fought too hard to be with him to let that bother her.

His lips are soft against hers, parting lightly when she presses herself closer. His fingers are stroking her ear and then her neck, making her sigh into the kiss.

"I love you," he murmurs against her lips. "Snow, will you still marry me? I'm just a shepherd."

"No, you're not," she says firmly, pressing a hard kiss against his lips. "You're a shepherd, nothing just about it. You're a real Prince Charming, _my_ Charming."

He nods, then curls his fingers possessively into her hair. "My Snow."

"My David," she adds after a moment, and his lips curve upwards. "I will have to get another name to keep up with you."

He laughs. "We'll find one for you. But you didn't actually answer the question."

"I don't have to," she teases, lowering her hand to rest above his heart. "You already know."

"Yes," he says, the expression on his face radiating love, and she knows her own mirrors it.

"Yes," she agrees, and kisses him in the bright sunlight, again and again, as she has every right to. He's her fiance, after all. Her David. Her Charming. Her husband to be. Whatever she calls him, it doesn't change who he really is to her. It never will.

He'll always be her love, after all.


	47. Chapter 47

Prompt:  
_Snow gives Emma a dance lesson  
_

"Mom?"

The sound of Emma uttering that word still makes Snow's heart ache with equal amounts of joy and pain. Emma has started using it far more frequently, but it's still a rare enough occurrence to remind Snow that she might be Emma's mother, but she was never quite her mommy.

"Yes, Emma?" she replies, pushing her conflicted emoticons aside and smiling up at her daughter, who I leaning against the frame of the door and looking hesitant.

Emma looks awkward. "I was… It's about the ball."

Snow has half been expecting this. "Emma, I know balls aren't your thing, but…"

"I'm still coming," Emma cuts in before Snow can start on her prepared speech. "Henry really wants me to, and I might as well get used to it.. It's just… David asked me for the first dance."

Snow nods. It took Charming a whole day to work himself up to ask his daughter for the first dance, and took him a week to stop beaming over her agreeing.

"I don't know how to dance!" Emma blurts out, and Snow blinks. "Not ballroom dancing, anyway. I know Henry has been learning from David, but I feel weird asking and…"

Snow stands up, reaching for her daughter's hand before Emma can say anything else. Of course. Of course Emma doesn't know how to dance. It was one of the things Snow always thought she would teach her daughter when young, long before her first ball, but like everything else she thought it had been lost along with their nursery.

But no. Two decades too late, a dance lesson from mother to daughter.

"I'll teach you," she says softly, and Emma looks awkward and hopeful at the same time.

"You're sure?" Emma asks, and Snow smiles.

"What are mothers for?"

II

Emma doesn't have two left feet, but she does have hardly any patience and no tact at all, so it is a slight challenge to teach her the easier dances from the Enchanted Forest.

Every now and then, Emma makes a wrong step and Snow can see the temptation to just flee on her daughter's face. She never does, though. Emma has stopped running.

"You're a natural," Snow tells her, doing a light twirl. Emma simply raises an eyebrow as she mimics the twirl.

"You're a liar. But… Thanks."

"Your father didn't know how to dance at first either."

"Oh?" Emma asks lightly, but Snow can hear the faint curious tone. She takes her daughter's hand and leads her across the floor.

"He was raised a shepherd, not a prince," Snow points out, and Emma's forehead crinkles slightly.

"It's weird to think about. He acts like such a…"

"Prince Charming?"

Emma gives her a look, then softens. "Yeah."

"He wasn't very princely the first time I tried to teach him a simple dance," Snow remarks, wishing Charming and Emma could have spent 28 years living with just how similar they are instead of having to discover it piece by piece now. "He managed to trip us both so we ended up in a pile on the floor."

She tactfully doesn't mention what they did on the floor, but can feel the memory bring a slight heat to her cheeks.

Emma doesn't seem to notice. "So I'm one up on him."

"So far," Snow says, lifting her hand to twirl her daughter around. "But we have five more dances to learn, so you may catch up to him yet."

Emma just groans.

II

Her father once called her the fairest in the land, Snow remembers. She knows now why he did that. To a parent, their child will always be the fairest, because parents look with love.

And so she looks at Emma, her radiant, lovely and fair daughter, who is stepping onto the ballroom floor with only the tiniest hint of trepidation.

Charming bows, holding out his hand to Emma and she accepts after just a second's hesitation. A moment later she steps into his arms, and father and daughter dance while Snow watches.

Emma dances well, though not perfectly, but Charming is smooth enough to cover any missteps and guides her through the dance easily. Every now and then Snow catches a glimpse of his face and smiles at his expression. He's always loved so strongly, she knows. Her. Their daughter. Henry. Their second child.

Their family.

And as Snow catches a glimpse of Emma's expression as she looks up at her father, she knows that is another thing Emma has in common with Charming. Emma might attempt to hide it more, but she loves no less strongly than Charming does.

Snow is even more sure of that when the dance ends and Henry walks up to Emma, requesting the second dance. Yes. Their daughter loves.

She feels Charming's hand against her back, pressing lightly, and without a word she glides into his arms to dance. He is smiling, she notices, but his eyes are slightly teary. Like her, he must be feeling the bittersweetness of doing something with Emma he should have gotten to do two decades ago.

"You taught her well," he murmurs against her ear, pressing a light kiss against it at the same time.

She considers pretending that she has no idea what he's talking about, but knows he'll see right through it. "How did you know?"

"Because she danced like me, and you taught me," he says, and twirls her effortlessly before pulling her into his arms again. "You got teach our daughter to dance after all."

"Yeah," she murmurs, and rests her head on his shoulder and tries very hard not to think about what should have been and just enjoy what is.


	48. Chapter 48

Prompt:  
_definitely Snow and Charming with interactions with Emma. Like Emma walks in on another taco moment :-)_

Emma Swan has never been a great fan of romance. Perhaps it's because it's hard to feel romantic about anything when you grew up thinking not even your parents loved you enough to keep you, or perhaps it's because the one time she did fall in love, he left her too.

Of course, now she knows her parents actually loved her more than anything and let her go to save her, and that the situation with Neal was more complicated than she knew back then. But still. It doesn't erase how she felt, and how she felt fueled a lifelong distrust of romance and love stories.

She never expected to get front seat tickets to an epic romance, a love story out of fairy tales and true love in the flesh – also known as her parents.

II

They're kissing again, Emma notices, glancing over into the corner where her parents are standing. Public displays of kissing, her parents' specialty, it feels like sometimes. At least it's not really indecent this time, not like some of the kisses she's seen them exchange that makes her think of tacos. This is just light brushes of lips in-between gazing at each other in a way that manages to be close to indecent as well. Practically restrained, as far as David and Mary Margaret go.

She can see other people glancing over at them sometimes, smiling faintly as if delighting in the sight of two people so obviously in love. It is how Emma wishes she could feel. Okay, they're her parents, and she'll never not find it awkward thinking about her parents showing their love for each other physically, but it's not just that.

It's seeing how strongly they love and knowing she could have been raised with that strength.

How different might that have been?

II

They can't just sit like normal people, Emma considers. No. David and Mary Margaret always manage to sit in a way that somehow manages to radiate affection. It's holding hands, or leaning on each other, or thighs pressed firmly together, or David's hand on Mary Margaret's shoulder or around her waist, or Mary Margaret's arm hooked in his.

The few times Emma has caught a glimpse of them sleeping, she knows it's the same there. They're always sleeping pressed closely together or partially on top of each other, with tangled limbs and no space between them.

They're always holding on, in some way. The moment there is any danger, they seem to reach for each other as well, as if they need psychical reassurance.

It makes her wonder why.

II

Sex, Emma thinks faintly. Oh, she always knew love involved kissing and as she grew older she realized that babies didn't come from sticking your tongue in someone's mouth but did still involve a sort of sticking. But it's one thing to know that true love probably involves a lot of true lust.

It's another thing to get a picture of it.

Again.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret says, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide. David is valiantly trying to shield her naked body with his, but Emma isn't sure that is much better. At least Henry isn't here, since what David and Mary Margaret were up to as she walked in was clearly the opposite of resting. It was more like vigorous physical activities. "I thought you would be back later. I sent a text!"

"That was two hours ago!" Emma protests, as David finally manages to fumble the blankets free to cover himself and his wife. "You can't have been… For two hours?!"

The guilty look on Mary Margaret's face speaks volumes, and a moment later David starts laughing. Emma glares at him just as Mary Margaret does, but he doesn't stop.

"This isn't funny," Mary Margaret protests, but Emma can tell her mother is fighting not to smile.

"It is," Emma says, and. It really is. She can well imagine how silly it looks, the daughter walking in on her same age parents having enthusiastic true love's sex and looking as if the concept was foreign to her. Of course she should know her parents have sex. It's how she got here, after all.

It's such a child thing to do, to think one's parents just hold hands and kiss and leave it at that.

So she laughs, and David and Mary Margaret do as well, laugh and laugh until they're all out of laughter.

"I think I need some vodka," Emma finally says. "Your treat."

II

It's a lot of alcohol and a dozing David in Mary Margaret's lap later when Emma finally dares ask what she's been wondering since the curse broke and she finally got a look at Snow White and Prince Charming as a couple.

Why are they so affectionate, so physical, so straight out of a love story written by unicorns and Care Bears and romantic cuddly kittens? (Okay, she doesn't put it quite like that, but close to, given the alcohol.)

Mary Margaret chuckles slightly at the question, but then lifts her hand to David's head in exactly the sort of loving gesture that could be the cover for True Love Monthly.

"I almost lost him so many times," Mary Margaret says quietly, stroking his hair. "I just need to know that I have him."

"Oh," Emma says quietly.

"I've faced the loss of him so many times," Mary Margaret goes on, glancing down at him with such love Emma swallows. "It makes me all the more determined to enjoy being with him. True love isn't easy, Emma. Not everyone gets it, and some people lose their chance at it altogether. I know that. I know how rare and precious it is. How can I not cherish it in every way I know how?"

"That makes sense," Emma manages to say.

"Does it bother you?" Mary Margaret asks, and Emma thinks about her parents holding hands, about how they look at each other and even how they kiss.

"A little," she admits after a moment, and Mary Margaret looks sad. "But that's because you're my parents and it would be weird if it didn't. But… I also know that I miss it whenever you guys have one of your rare fights."

Mary Margaret smiles then, almost hopefully. "You know we want to be affectionate with you as well, don't you?"

Emma swallows, then thinks about her parents hugging her, her mother reaching for her hand and her father's soft forehead kisses. "I know, I'm just…"

"Not ready," Mary Margaret says sadly.

"Working on it," Emma counters, and Mary Margaret smiles that hopeful smile of hers again. "I'm… I'm getting used to it. To how you two are with each other as well. Just promise me one thing?"

"What?"

"Get a bedroom door that locks before the next time you decide to ravish my father for hours, would you?"

Mary Margaret blushes, but her eyes are bright. "I promise."

II

The next day, David installs a new bedroom door, and Emma pretends not to notice that. But when her parents hold hands and kiss during lunch, she doesn't look away and even smiles faintly.

She might learn to tolerate love stories, she reasons. At least the one known as her parents.


	49. Chapter 49

Prompt:  
_Snowing spend the whole day in bed together_

"Snow…" Charming tries, but she folds her arms and glares at him. "It's just one day."

"A day," she echoes. "A whole day staying in bed."

A smile tugs at his lips. "Snow, you twisted your ankle. A whole day in bed is getting off easy. Doc was suggesting at least five before you gave him the same sort of glare you're giving me."

"It worked on him," she quips, and he looks downright amused.

"It's a good thing for your ankle that I am immune to your glares," he counters, and she narrows her eyes slightly. "Perfectly immune, in fact."

She keeps her gaze on him for another minute, but he merely folds his arms and continues to look amused. With a sigh, she lets her head fall back against the pillow. She can't even glare at him properly, not when she saw the anguished look on his face when he thought she was seriously hurt.

"What am I going to do with a day in bed, Charming?"she asks, and he sits down next to her and take her hand.

"We'll think of something," he promises, and she tilts her head to look at him.

"We?" she echoes.

"You didn't think I would abandon you alone to such a cruel fate, did you?" he says, his voice all mock seriousness, but his eyes bright with love. "Unless you want me to."

Her kiss, soft and tender, should be answer enough, she figures.

II

She wakes in Charming's arms, and it takes a moment to remember that she has no reason to actually wake up. She has to stay in bed today. There is no point in getting up early as she always does (in order to have a private breakfast with Charming before getting to their more public duties), not today.

She lowers her head to Charming's chest again, and he makes a soft noise. She watches his peaceful face for a moment, drawing her hand across his smooth chest. She does love this, she has to admit, this sensation of being nestled in his arms, of having him close.

He's hers, she thinks with satisfaction, and presses a kiss against the scar on his chin. He sighs at that too, then opens his eyes and blinks at her sleepily. After a moment, his lips curve into a smile.

"Good morning," he murmurs, lifting a hand to her back. His palm is warm as it follows the curve of her spine, and she arches her back slightly at his touch.

"Good morning," she replies, shifting slightly to kiss him. His lips are soft as they press against hers, and he hums happily at the back of his throat. "Charming?"

"Mmmm?"

"When did you ask Red to bring us breakfast?"

He glances at the window, where the faint light of the dawn is just starting to creep in. "Not for a while yet. Are you hungry? I can head down to the kitchen and…"

She silences him with another kiss, this one far harder and demanding.

"Oh," he murmurs breathlessly against her lips, probably realizing she has an entirely different meal in mind: him.

"Oh," she echoes teasingly, and kisses him again.

II

With her ankle, Charming is so very careful – his touches teasingly light, his kisses across her skin gentle brush of lips, even his thrusts slow and languid with his hands on her hips bracing her.

She is less so, digging her fingers into his back, biting down on his lower lip, bucking against the touch of his fingers between her legs, scraping her nails across his skin. He loves that in her, she knows, feeling his moans reverberate into her. He loves her, and loves her impatience, her occasional roughness, her pursuit of what she wants, the kisses she steals, the bandit in his bed.

Just as she loves the shepherd in hers, the patience and gentleness in him, the determination to touch her until she gasps his name, the way he watches her face when he sinks into her and looks lost, and the occasional roughness to match her own.

The shepherd and the bandit, Prince Charming and Snow White, husband and wife. They are a match, she knows, parting her lips as he kisses her and presses against her; she growls his name into his mouth as she comes.

II

Ruby doesn't comment on their appearance as she gives them a tray with breakfast treats, merely raises an eyebrow at the state of Snow's hair and the marks on Charming's shoulder before slipping out with a knowing smile.

Then again, it isn't the first time Red has seen them in this state, Snow figures, and wonders if she is meant to feel ashamed for wanting her husband as much as she want. She can't, though. It feels like too much of a good thing to be ashamed.

They feed each other breakfast with laughter and smile, and then Charming puts aside the tray and they snuggle together in silence for a while. She lets herself listen to his breath, drawing faint patterns on his skin with her fingers.

There is no rush. No meetings to hurry to. Just him and her and nothing else.

This might not be such a bad thing after all, she decides.

II

He kisses her ankle several times, propping it up on a pillow before settling down and reading to her. She curls up against his side and he reads from a book his mother used to tell him stories from, having had to sell the actual book to have food on their table on winter. It makes her want to weep for the kindly woman who was willing to die to give her son what he wanted, but instead she kisses his chest and vows to herself that she will honor that as well as she can.

She's going to make Ruth's son happy, to love him truly in every way she can, to have a family with him and watch him read to their children in bed.

"What?" Charming asks, pausing as he notices the look on her face.

"It's a good book," she tells him sincerely, and kisses him; the book ends up falling to the floor forgotten.

II

"I love you," he whispers, his expression almost reverent as he gazes at her. She has no breath to answer, his fingers and steady thrusts stealing her breath and building her pleasure.

He knows anyway, she knows. He knows her, after all, knows that she often goes for action rather than words, and thus knows what her touches, her kisses and her caresses mean.

I love you too, she thinks, and lifts her head to kiss him, again and again.

II

They doze off for a while, waking in the evening to have some sort of soup Granny has made them for dinner (apparently not trusting the cook to make the right kind of food for someone with a sprained ankle, according to Red) and then settling into each other's arms again.

They talk then, telling each other stories; Charming's mostly seem to involve sheep while hers are about royal life Every now and then one of hers involve Regina, and he presses a comforting kiss to her temple whenever her voice wavers.

They walk about family too, about the children they're going to have and what they can give them. It's not riches or a castle that they're both desperate to give. No. It's the the love of a mother and father, both having grown up losing one of them.

It will be different for their children, Snow promises to herself, and hopes she won't have to break it.

II

It's late when Charming stirs slightly, dipping his head down to kiss her lazily. She moans softly, and he sighs as he breaks the kiss.

"You did it," he murmurs. "You spent the whole day in bed and survived."

"With the help of my valiant knight," she replies, and he grins.

"It was a great sacrifice to make," he says, and she smacks her hand against his chest.

"Such a Prince Charming," she teases, and he smiles as she brushes a featherlight kiss against his lips. "Charming?"

"Mmm?"

"I could do this my whole life."

"Spending the day in bed?" he asks, smiling.

"No," she counters, pressing her finger against his lips. "Spending the day with you. In bed, or in the council chamber or on some adventure being chased with ogres or medusas. I want to do everything together. I never want to leave your side."

He makes a soft noise of satisfaction at that, moving to kiss her, but she keeps her finger firmly pressed against his lips.

"Unless you want me to?" she teases.

His kiss, firm and insistent, is answer enough.


	50. Chapter 50

Prompt:  
_Emma babysits her new brother or sister & talks about the weirdness of their Family tree_

Emma Swan has faced dragons, mermaids, ogres, eternal teenagers, wraiths and curses. But none of those have prepared her for the terror of what she's about to face now.

Babysitting her baby brother.

Sure, she volunteered for it, but that makes it no less terrifying. She just wanted to do something for her exhausted parents who were also clearly in desperate need for some alone time, and suggested this without thinking.

So they are going on a date night to Granny's and she is babysitting.

Help.

Mary Margaret is still fussing over little Jacob while David is giving Emma an encouraging smile. She wonders if he's seeing right through her attempt at a brave face, as he seems to have been developing a disturbing habit of reading her very well. But if he does, he shows no sign of it.

"He should be ready to sleep soon. If there's anything, just call," Mary Margaret says breathlessly, beaming down at the small baby boy before carefully easing him into Emma's arms. "I know you'll take care of him, but if there's anything, anything at all..."

"Snow," David says gently, and the two of them seem to be having another one of their silent conversations. Emma takes the opportunity to swallow several times while their attention isn't on her.

She has a baby in her arms. Her baby brother. She never even held her own son and now she is holding her brother.

Help.

"Have a good time," she manages to say to David and Mary Margaret. David squeezes her shoulder while Mary Margaret gives Jacob one last kiss, and then gives Emma one too.

With that, her parents are gone and Emma is left with her baby brother. He blinks lazily up at her, so terrifyingly adorable. She imagines Henry looked much like him, and the thought makes her want to flee.

But she doesn't. She heads for the couch instead, sitting down and cradling the baby gently. She just has to get him to sleep, and then he can sleep through the evening and she can drown her fears in ice cream.

"Hi," she says dumbly. She refuses to do baby talk. There are limits to sisterly duties, and she draws the line at sounding like a cooing bird. (Her mother talks bird. Not her.) "How does falling asleep sound?"

Jacob makes a face, scrunching his forehead slightly. It reminds her of David, and on second thought maybe even herself.

Shit.

"Okay, how does a bedtime story sound?" she tries. There is no way she is singing lullabies. Not until it's a last resort, at least. "Problem is, I don't know a lot of them. Henry – that's your nephew – has a storybook full of them, but he's with Regina tonight. She's his other mother. And your mother's step-mother."

She pauses. "Actually, just explaining your family tree would probably take a whole book. There is your parents. David and Mary Margaret. They're Snow White and Prince Charming as well."

She thinks of her parents, the ones she thought abandoned her and who she now knows loved her more than anything.

"They're great parents," she says quietly. "You're lucky to have them, even if they'll probably traumatize you somewhere down the line. Never enter their bedroom without knocking. Trust me, I'm your big sister."

He makes a soft noise as if he agrees.

"That's me," she goes. "I'm Emma. I'm your big sister. A bit bigger than normally, actually. I have a son named Henry. He's your nephew. You'll love him. I did."

She smiles faintly, thinking of the boy she gave up to give him his best chance, and how he found her and gave her a chance at a family.

"He was adopted by Regina. She was the Evil Queen. Less evil now, but still acts like a queen. But she secretly made a protection spell to keep you safe while your mommy was pregnant with you, so I think she might like you."

Jacob makes a noise as if it is obvious that anyone would love him, and she smiles at that. He is the son of two of the most loved (and in love) people she knows, so perhaps he takes love as a given. She hopes so, anyway. She doesn't want him to ever think of love as something just out of a fairy tale, as she did.

"Henry's father is Neal," she continues, choosing her words carefully. "He's... he's... He's Neal. He was Baelfire. His father is Rumpelstiltskin or Mr. Gold. You might remember him. He gave you a dragon mobile after you were born."

Sometimes she wonders about Gold's affection for her family. It's not just about Neal, she's sure. He seems to have had a certain fondness for her parents even before she was born. Why, she isn't sure.

"I suppose Belle will be in your family too one day," she says thoughtfully. "She's Mr. Gold's girlfriend. He had a father too. Peter Pan. No, really. Peter Pan was part of the family."

She forces herself not to shudder at the memory. Pan nearly took her son from her, something she will never forgive. She also knows she came out of that journey stronger, and closer to her parents, but that doesn't mitigate anything.

"I think that's everyone," she finally says. "Oh no, there's also King George. He adopted your uncle James and then sort of your dad. But you won't see him at Christmas since he disowned your daddy for loving your mommy."

Rather stupid, Emma thinks. Anyone can see David and Mary Margaret couldn't be more in love if they tried and trying to change that is pointless. Even in their cursed state they were drawn to each other despite everything.

"That's your family, kid," she sums up. "Well, for now. There might be new additions."

She tries very hard not to think about additions she might make, very, very hard.

"It's quite confusing," she says instead, and Jacob makes a noise as if he agrees. "But you know what, kid? You're lucky to have it."

Jacob blinks at her, and then reaches for her finger and grabs it. She holds her breath for a moment, marveling at how it feels.

"So am I," she whispers, thinking about the family; their family. "Yeah, so am I, kid."


	51. Chapter 51

Prompt:  
_Prompt for advent calendar: snowing wrapping some christmas gifts with some fun ;)_

"Snow?"

"Yes?"

"Just how many gifts did you get Henry and Emma?"

His wife looks adorably guilty, Charming notices, not even meeting his gaze.

"A few," she says.

He looks at the pile of gifts they still have to wrap. "This qualifies as 'a few' in what realm, exactly?"

"Mine," she counters, and he chuckles softly. She's still avoiding his gaze, though, and he puts the gift he just wrapped under the tree and then shifts closer to her.

"All right, Snow White, ruler of the realm of plenty, you want to tell me why we're giving our daughter and our grandson enough presents to put Santa out of business?" he asks, lifting his hand to touch her shoulder. He can feel the tension in her, but she slowly relaxes as he continues to caress her gently.

He waits.

"Emma lost 28 years of gifts," she finally says, and he nods slowly. Ah. "I just want this Christmas to be... I want it to be perfect for her."

"Snow," he says gently. "Emma is spending her Christmas with Henry and us. I don't think any gift you can give her can top that. She has her family."

Snow bites her lip. "She told me she felt like an orphan, Charming. In Neverland."

The words cut into his heart, but he keeps his face calm. Emma, his darling, beloved daughter thinking herself an orphan. If pain could kill, that would be a mortal blow.

"You can't change that with presents," he says instead. "You gotta give it time, Snow. She spent 28 years feeling lost. It will take her some time to get used to being found."

She smiles faintly at him. "You always know what to say."

"Not really, I just wing it well," he jokes, and her smile grows wider and then turns into that smile she only ever gives him. In the light of the Christmas tree she looks downright radiant, and so he leans forward and kisses her. She sighs into it, pressing herself closer and lifting a hand to his cheek.

"I have a gift for you too," she whispers.

"You're my gift," he tells her and her eyes soften. "Snow, you've given me love I don't feel worthy of, a daughter that makes me proud every day and with her a grandson we're lucky to have in our lives. You've given me a family that started with you."

"Charming," she says breathlessly, and then kisses him eagerly. He pulls her onto his lap as she tugs at his lips, lifting her sweater enough to allow his hands to stroke her lower back.

"You're still helping me wrap all these presents," she says against his lips, and he makes an exaggerated groan that she kisses into a moan. "Afterwards, at least."

"After what?" he murmurs, kissing her nose gently before finding her lips again.

"After we do some unwrapping," she says; he gives himself to her quite eagerly, and under the tree too.

II

Some time later, they've wrapped themselves in a blanket and have nestled themselves on the couch. Pile of presents still lay unwrapped, but it's many hours until Emma will be home yet. They have time to finish wrapping later.

"Charming?"

"About your gift..."

"You mean that wasn't it?" he jokes, and she gives him a look.

"Charming, you unwrap me on a near daily basis. It's definitely not something you save for special occasions."

He smiles, knowing she's got him there. "So, what is this gift?"

"It's an addition," she says softly.

"Addition to what?"

"The gift you claim I've already given you."

He nearly bolts upwards, catching himself – and Snow – at the last minute. She beams at him as he grabs her upper arms. "You're pregnant?!"

"Yes," she admits, biting her lip. "That's also why I wanted to make this Christmas special for Emma, because at the next one..."

"She'll have a sister or brother," he finishes. He stares at her, then kisses her face reverently; her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids, her forehead and then her lips. Her eyes are teary, he notices, but they are happy tears. "I love you."

"I love you too," she says; her voices catches. He kisses her again, and again, knowing that while he has his family, Santa's out of business with him because nothing will ever top that gift.


	52. Chapter 52

Prompt:  
_Prompt for Advent calender: Snow talks to Emma about she and Charming having another baby_

"Emma?"

Mary Margaret's voice is hesitant, reminding Emma more of the woman she knew in Storybrooke than the fairytale princess/bandit she's slowly getting to know now. Strangely, Emma finds she is happy about that, happy that there is something of the friend she came to consider family even before the curse broke that remains.

She was very fond of that friend.

But she has also come to love her mother.

"Yeah?" she replies, and Mary Margaret sits down on the couch next to her. David has taken Henry out for ice cream, and in such a way that Emma suspects he was deliberately giving Mary Margaret and her some time to talk. Her father isn't exactly subtle, after all. Much like herself.

"Emma," Mary Margaret says again, taking her hand. "David and I, we... We're having a baby."

Emma just nods automatically, feeling slightly dizzy for a moment. She has been expecting this moment to come, yet she realizes she wasn't quite ready for it.

"Congratulations," she says after a moment, realizing Mary Margaret is waiting for her reaction.

Mary Margaret is watching her intently, squeezing her hand lightly. "Emma, we're not looking to replace you, we're not..."  
"It's fine, you know," Emma cuts in, trying to give a reassuring smile. "I get it. You missed out on raising a child. I remember what you said in the Echo Cave."

Mary Margaret winces slightly. "Not exactly how I wanted to you to find out."

"It helped us save Neal, and through Neal we got our way home and saved Henry," Emma says, very firmly not thinking about that moment in the cave or the moments after. "that's all that matters."

"No," Mary Margaret says firmly, and that is all Snow White, Emma thinks. "You matter a great deal to us, Emma."

"I know," Emma manages to say. She does know. She's seen it enough times now. They support her, they love her, they keep trying to find ways to make her happy. They want so very much for her to be happy. "I suppose I would probably have had siblings even if you had raised me."

Mary Margaret nods, her eyes bright with tears. "You would have had several. But you would have always been our firstborn. You always will be."

"The big sister," Emma says, realizing to her horror that her own eyes are teary too. She tries to blink the tears away, but they seem to linger. "So what will I be a big sister to, a boy or a girl?"

"We don't know yet," Mary Margaret says, managing a smile. "We were hoping you would come with us to the ultrasound appointment."

Emma remembers hers, listening to the faint heartbeat of a child she already knew she had to give up. She didn't want to know the sex, as that would make it easier to picture what she was giving up.

But this child, this child can have everything she couldn't give Henry, everything her parents wanted to give her. This child can be different.

"Okay," Emma says and Mary Margaret's smile widens. "I suppose that comes with the big sister territory."

"You're going to be a wonderful sister," Mary Margaret says, pulling her into a hug. "Just like you're an amazing mother."

Emma feels a strange combination of awkward and proud. That her parents love her, that she has come to accept and learn to trust. But that they're also proud of her, so very proud, that she is still learning to deal with.

"You are too, you know," she whispers, and Mary Margaret makes a choked sob. "You'll be an amazing mother for this child, just as you are for me."

"When you let me," Mary Margaret jokes weakly, but she is beaming when Emma pulls back to look at her. "You can have another child too, you know. Henry will understand."

"I know," Emma says quietly. She thinks of her loving son who will love being a big brother, and love being a big brother figure to his uncle or aunt. She thinks of the men in her life, and of second chances. "I'll settle for big sister for now. Besides, David would probably kill anyone who knocked me up and I'd hate to have to arrest my own father."

Mary Margaret laughs softly. "He might resort to simple bodily grievous harm if you reminded him he would get to be gramps to another kid that way."

Emma cracks a smile at that, thinking of her father and Henry. Yeah, she could definitely see David enjoy getting to be grandfather to more than one kid.

"Emma," Mary Margaret says, squeezing her hand again. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

Emma thinks of a ruined nursery in another land, her nursery, and all the things that have been lost to them all.

"No," she says, and Mary Margaret's face falls. "I will never be okay with what we lost. But I will be better than okay with having a brother and sister. I'll be happy with it."

Mary Margaret pulls her into another hug, and Emma lets her head rest on her mother's shoulder. They sit like that until David returns with Henry, and rather than interrupting, David simply joins in and hugs them both. Henry too, joins the embrace.

Her family, Emma thinks. Her son, her mother, her father and her sister or brother on the way. Her growing family that might grow even more.

"Why are we hugging?" Henry asks, nuzzling his head against Emma's shoulder. David and Mary Margaret both laugh and link hands across Emma's back.

"It's a family thing, kid" Emma says; it is, after all.


	53. Chapter 53

Prompt:  
_Emma gives her parents an unexpected gift_

The gifts have all been distributed, the cookies have been eaten, the carols sung, the guests have left and the Charmings are about official Christmas-ed out, Emma reckons . Even Henry has fallen asleep, and David has gently carried him to his bed. Tomorrow, he's off to Regina's for another round of Christmas, so Emma supposes the boy needs his strength.

She feels quite mellow herself. The early part of the day was spent saving Storybrooke from a crisis (again), but the afternoon and evening has been peaceful. It's even snowing, something that has caused David to make so many Snow puns that Mary Margaret threatened to tie him up somewhere if he didn't shut up. David just laughed and claimed she did that often enough anyway and then kissed her, and Emma had some more eggnog to pretend she never heard that.

But all in all, she's actually enjoyed herself this Christmas. The food has been good, her parents have been heartbreakingly sweet through it all, the dwarfs have been great entertainment. Henry has loved it all and the pile of gifts ended up being impressive sight.

She's been given a lot of thoughtful and loving gifts, she has to admit. A new leather jacket, a toaster, several warm hats with matching lovely leather gloves and even enchanted walkie talkies for her and Henry from Gold.

There is also the sword David got her, which Emma half expected Mary Margaret to protest about. Instead Mary Margaret had gotten her a bow and arrows as well, reminding Emma that while her parents might be the most lovey-dovey couple in all the realms, they also seem to think kicking ass and going on adventures is a natural part of love too.

She watches them now, as David settles down on the couch and Mary Margaret immediately nestles against him. He puts his arm around her and caresses her arm slowly without seeming to even think about it, as if his caresses have become instinctual by now.

"Henry is still out like a light," David says softly, and Emma nods. Her father is quite proud of his role as grandfather, she knows, and finds it endearing to the point of almost getting mushy about it.

"I think he liked his gifts," Mary Margaret says hopefully.

"Of course he did," Emma replies, snorting lightly. "He got the biggest pile of us all. He's downright spoiled."

"As I recall, you got him half of those gifts," David teases gently, and Emma gives him a look.

"Maybe I got him a few extra," she admits reluctantly. "He's just been through so much, I wanted him to have a good Christmas."

"He did," Mary Margaret assures her, smiling at her.

"Yeah," Emma says, taking a deep breath. "So did I, by the way. Thank you."

Her parents beam at her with so much gratitude she feels downright guilty. She does appreciate all they've done for her. She does. She's just bad at expressing it.

"I got you another gift," she rushes out before she starts feeling even more awkward. Her parents look at her curiously as she reaches into her bag and pulls out two flat gift-wrapped packages. "One is from Henry and one's from me. He only finished it today and I didn't want to give you mine without his."

Mary Margaret accepts the gifts with a happy smile, and David kisses her temple while she unwraps the first one. It's a home-made gift frame with 'world's best grandparents' on it that Henry has painted, and the picture is of David and Mary Margaret and Henry during a visit to the stables.

"Oh," Mary Margaret breathes. Her eyes are teary.

"he thought of it himself," Emma says. "He... You're really great with him, guys. Thanks."

"He's a great kid," David says softly, and she can only nod, feeling a lump in her throat.

Mary Margaret is opening the next gift, and Emma bites back her slight anxiety about it. She decided to get them this, she reminds herself.

"Oh," Mary Margaret says again, land David peers down at what she's unwrapped. It's another picture frame, a bought one this time, with "our daughter" engraved. Inside is a picture taken at Granny's of her, David and Mary Margaret in a semi-hug.

"Granny took the picture and thought I might like it," Emma says in the silence. "I thought maybe you two would like it too so I got a copy and..."

Before she can finish, Mary Margaret is reaching for her and pulling her into an embrace. A moment later David's arms around them both, and Emma finds herself hugging them both back.

They must know what she's saying with this, after all, what she's been working up the courage to find a way to tell them for weeks now.

She's not just their daughter by birth any more.

"Thank you, Emma," Mary Margaret whispers as David presses a kiss against Emma's forehead and then Mary Margaret's.

"Merry Christmas," Emma replies softly and closes her eyes and feels completely at peace in the embrace of her parents. Tomorrow, she's definitely going to blame the eggnog for being this mushy, but for right now, she's actually going to let herself enjoy it.

II

A few weeks later, her parents get her a matching picture frame with "my family", and Emma puts her copy of the picture Granny took in it and keeps it on her night table right next to one of Henry.


	54. Chapter 54

Prompt:  
_Snow/Charming, picking Emma's name_

Snow rests her hands on her growing stomach, and her head in Charming's lap while he strokes her hair and smiles down at her. It's a bright summer's day and they've stolen some privacy away from the castle, as they do sometimes.

"It's a boy," he says again, and she smiles at his certainty, knowing he's wrong. Not that she fears he would prefer a boy over a girl, not really. He will take one look at his baby girl and fall in love, just as she would with a baby boy.

"I'm just saying there's no harm in having picked a girl's name too," she says, and before he can start thinking too much about her insistence at picking a girl's name too and therefore probably figuring it out, she goes for a tactic he taught her: Distraction. "For the future as well. Or don't you want more than one child?"

He gets a slightly far-away look in his eyes, as if he's imagining the future. Then he grins. "I definitely want more than one."

"Well, then," she says and lets herself imagine him surrounded by children for a moment. "Let's pick a girl's name too."

"Yes, princess," he teases, and she gives him a look he merely grins at. Then he grows more serious. "Would you like to name her after you mother?"

Snow thinks of her mother, of the happy years being raised by her and then the years after.

"No," she says, and Charming cups her cheek in a comforting gesture. "I... No."

"You don't have to explain," he says quietly.

"What about your mother?" she asks, thinking about Ruth's sacrifice. This child wouldn't be coming if not for her, but she doesn't want to burden Charming with that knowledge. Not yet, at least.

The sadness in his eyes makes her lift her head and kiss him tenderly. He sighs at that, supporting her head before easing her down into his lap again.

"Not as a first name," he says quietly. "But I wouldn't mind it as a middle name for one of our children."

"I would like that too," she reassures him, and he smiles lovingly at her.

"So, are you going to tell me the name you've chosen?" he says, trucking a strand of hair behind her ear and then caressing her ear gently.

"Who says I've picked a name already?" she protests.

"The look on your face," he says, and she opens her mouth to argue it, but then thinks better of it. He knows her too well. She loves that in him most of the time, but she has to admit that every now and then it is a slight nuisance.

"I have a suggestion," she says instead.

"If that's the way you want to phrase it," he teases. She gives him a look again, but can't quite help her lips turning upwards. "So what is this suggestion?"

The baby kicks, as if wanting to know it as well, and Snow swallows. Suddenly speaking it aloud seems to make it more real that they're actually having a child, having a daughter.

"Emma," she finally says. "It was the name of a princess in our realm long ago. She was beloved and ruled well, and they say she was born from true love also."

"Emma," he says softly, as if trying the name.

"They said her name meant whole or universal," she goes on.

"I like it," he says after a moment, smiling. "I would love to have a daughter named Emma with you, Snow."

"Then an Emma we shall have," she says, then remembers he's not meant to know it's a daughter yet. "Someday."

Before he can think more about her slight hesitation, she sits up and kisses him in the bright, warm sunlight, distracting him until he falls back onto the grass with her on top and they both thoroughly distract each other.

And Emma, Emma rests in her mother's womb and waits for the day she'll make their family whole; none of them can imagine it will take 28 years.


	55. Chapter 55

Prompt:  
_Prompt for the advent calender: Emma was never put into the wardrobe._

The baby is born to the joy of the whole kingdom, and only the distant thundering from Regina's castle can put a dent in her parents' happiness. But that worry is for the future. Right now, it is a good moment.

Emma, she is named, and for the first day she stays in her parents' arms, Snow's and then Charming's and then Snow's again. It is as if they're afraid to let go, afraid that if they don't hold on to her she'll be gone to them.

Their child. Their Emma.

The first night, they stay with her in her nursery, watching over her and singing lullabies, a few from their own childhoods and a few they just make up. Charming gets into slight trouble with the lullaby about bandits and rocks, but does manage to kiss his way out of it. And so, Emma spends her first night in her nursery surrounded by toys, songs and her parents, as beloved as a child can be.

II

At one, Emma can walk and sort of talk in her own Emma language, and spends her days playing with mommy or daddy or Ruby or a dwarf, always surrounded by people who love her. Her hair has remained blonde, but gained curls, and the curls seems as willful as the child.

Then again, what could you expect from the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming?

II

At two, Emma likes to sneak around. His bandit baby, Charming teases. But really, Emma has the determination of both her parents, and it's not uncommon for her to sneak her way into the council chambers during a meeting and ending up on mommy or daddy's lap while matters of the kingdom get discussed.

One day, she's going to rule this kingdom, her parents have decided. It's fitting then that she already seems to rule the castle.

II

At three, Emma has a baby brother. Jacob. She isn't happy about that at first, so used to having her parents all to herself that then thought of sharing makes her cry and hide in a castle tower. It's Ruby who finds her there and gives her a stern talk about how lucky she is to have a brother, how some children never have that joy, and how love isn't like a bowl of food that needs to be shared. Love is magic. The more you love, the more love you have Ruby tells her, and wipes away her tears.

Emma thinks about loving mommy and daddy both, and thinks she might understand.

II

At four, Emma gets a wooden sword from her daddy and is made his finest knight after defeating him in a battle, and she proudly shows it to her little brother. He smiles at her, and thinks about what daddy said about knights looking after those who needs protection.

In the morning, mommy finds Emma fallen asleep by her brother's crib, still clutching the wooden sword, having fallen asleep on guard duty.

II

At six, Emma takes her baby brother on his first adventure. They sneak out through the secret entrance she knows of, and gets into the forest. Emma likes the forest, like sthe stories mommy tells about living there.

They get into trouble when they get home again, with mommy and daddy angry and not even mollified by the flower crowns Jacob and her made for them. Not even crying helps, but finally daddy takes Emma into his lap and mommy takes Jacob into hers, and they tell them that they are angry because they are afraid, and afraid because not all people are good people.

Emma has no idea what evil is, and falls asleep wondering about it.

II

At seven, Emma has another brother, but he dies during the night and mommy cries heartbrokenly in daddy's arms, and Emma thinks that this, this has to be what evil is.

Something that painful has to be evil.

II

At nine, Emma gets her first pony and loves it. She calls him Dragonfire, because you have to be fast to avoid a dragon's fire and her pony is fast to her. When daddy points out a horse is faster, she tells him her first horse will be Quick Dragonfire and he laughs and smiles and then spins her around happily.

While they ride, she gets him to tell her about slaying the dragon again; one day, she vows to be just as big a hero as he was.

II

At ten, Emma has both a brother and a sister. Twins, which mommy blames daddy for and daddy happily takes the blame for.

Jacob isn't happy about it, so Emma takes her brother to a castle tower and tells him about the magic of love, of how the more you love, the more love you have, just like Ruby told her.

II

At eleven, Emma kisses the stable boy. He's a cute stable boy, always looking after Dragonfire, and he blushes whenever he sees her. His lips are soft, but when he tries to kiss her back, she pulls away.

No magic, she thinks sadly. No curse broken, not even a spark. So it isn't true love, and Emma wants no less than what her parents have.

II

At thirteen, Emma goes with her parents on a journey around the kingdom and they talk about the responsibility of ruling and the weight of the crown. Emma doesn't understand all of it, but is starting to think that she will have to learn.

Only one part of the kingdom they avoid, the part with a dark castle that mommy never wants to talk about.

II

At fourteen, Emma doesn't want to rule. Emma wants to ride, to be a bandit, to be a hero, to do something that makes her name important.

She doesn't want to just be Snow and Charming's daughter.

She wants to be Emma.

II

At sixteen, Emma runs away. She takes Quick Dragonfire and rides, rides far until she doesn't even know where she is. She sleeps under the open sky and tries to feel free, but wakes several times during the night worried about how her parents are feeling.

In the morning, she meets a kindly old woman in the forest who offers to show her the way home. Regina, the old woman calls herself, and then smiles and reaches into Emma's chest for her heart.

The wave of magic knocks Regina out and leaves Emma breathless with wonder. Love is magic, aunt Ruby told her. She didn't expect it to be so literal.

She goes home again, with her heart and to her heart – her family, who are overjoyed to see her.

II

At seventeen, Emma Swan discovers her magic. Jacob and the twins sleep, but she stays up to watch the flames flickering across her palms in delight.

This will worry her parents, she knows. They always worry about the price of magic, having seen it used for so much bad.

Emma is going to use it for good, she decides. She thinks she knows how to be Emma now, after all.

She's the product of true love, the daughter of Snow and Charming, the heir to the kingdom. All those things she was born into, and so wrongly assumed they defined her when she wanted to define herself.

She was wrong.

What defines her, what makes her Emma, is what she does with it all, and she, she is going to do good. Like a hero. Like a good queen.

Like a savior.


	56. Chapter 56

Prompt:  
_Plz plz something Snowing after 3x11 & dealing with the loss of Emma again_

Now we just go back to being stories, Regina told Emma.

Stories hold power, Snow has always known. They can hold dreams and desires, they can cam explain and ask questions, and they give hope. They're powerful.

Every night, Snow clings to the power of stories as Charming tells one about how Emma and Henry's day went.

There is no way to know if they're true, of course. They haven't seen Emma since she drove away in her yellow bug and they had to give her up again, and they will never see her again. Not if all goes well, and Snow simply can't make herself wish that Emma's happy ending be spoiled. Not even to see her again.

But the stories could be true, and that's enough for Snow.

So she listens, head on Charming's chest as he weaves a tale about their daughter and their grandson. They're happy stories, sometimes silly stories, about everyday adventures of a little family. It's a special school project one day, lost car keys another, a hostile toaster as a recurring theme and late night movie nights with hot chocolate with cinnamon at least once a week.

If Snow closes her eyes, she can easily imagine it. She can see Emma tease Henry, see Henry try to battle the toaster into submission for his mother, see the two of them fall asleep together on the couch while rain taps on the class. She can see them live happily ever after, mother and son, true love as a family.

Charming's voice is always steady as he talks, but every now and then she can hear the longing and sadness creep into his voice. She kisses his chest then, and he kisses the top of her head and they hold on to each other with something akin to desperation.

On some night they cannot sleep at all, and so Charming tells stories into the morning, trying so very hard to make the loss bearable to them both.

When Snow discovers herself to be pregnant, the stories don't end. They just gain another listener, namely the growing life inside her, the boy that will be their son. Emma's baby brother

Sometimes, Snow imagines that Emma tells Henry stories too, Maybe even fairy tales. Maybe even the one about Snow White and her prince. Henry would probably declare it boring, and so Emma would make a new version, one where Snow is a badass and her prince no less so, and the Evil Queen can be redeemed.

A story.

Now we just go back to being stories, Regina told Emma. But stories are important. Stories matter.

Snow and Charming make Emma and Henry a story that never ends; it's the only way they can still live with their daughter and grandson now.


	57. Chapter 57

Prompt:  
_Henry and Gramps and some of the others trying to pull off Operation Secret Santa for the 12 days of Christmas_

Emma doesn't believe in Elves. Oh, she's learned to believe in dragons and magic and true love and Snow White and Prince Charming as her parents, but she very firmly does not believe in Santa's Elves.

So the gift that she finds wrapped on her night stand is definitely from someone in her household. Mary Margaret, Henry and David are all options, and she can't really rule either of them out. All of them are likely candidates for some sort of Secret Santa thing.

She makes no mention of her gift at breakfast, trying to see if anyone is looking at her extra carefully as if trying to gauge her reaction. But her family is chatting amicably around her and smile at each other with easy smiles, and all she can see is happiness. Radiant, beaming happiness.

Their first Christmas as a family, she knows, and feels herself smiling as she watches David ruffle Henry's hair and Mary Margaret stroke David's arm.

The second morning of Christmas there is also a gift on her night stand, this one wrapped in a slightly more elaborate manner. It makes Mary Margaret the new prime suspect, and she remains so until the next morning when another gift is found; that one is far more simply wrapped.

Perhaps the guilty party is smart enough to attempt to throw her off, Emma reasons, and starts watching her father carefully. She's almost convinced of his guilt, at least until he has to spend a night dealing with a runaway banshee (taking Mary Margaret with him) and a gift still appears at her night stand in the morning despite her parents not being home until lunch.

Henry, then. Except she isn't sure about that either, because she's seen how he wraps gifts before and most of these are a step up from that.

The gifts continue, one every morning. She saves them all, making a small pile of them trying to look for clues in the wrapping. But after 12 days of gifts, she is no closer to determining which of her three suspects is the culprit. Some gifts seem to point towards Mary Margaret, some to Henry and some to David. So one morning she walks into the kitchen, her family all looking up at her as she enter.

"So which of you was my secret Santa?" she asks, and the three exchange glances. "I know it's one of you, as there are no elves."

"Actually…" her mother starts, and Emma groans. "They aren't anything like the stories of this world would have you believe, but there are elves."

"Did any of them leave presents at my night stand every morning these last twelve days?" Emma asks.

"It wasn't one of us," David says, and Emma shoots him a disbelieving glance. "It's true!"

"Your father is right," Mary Margaret says softly. "It was all of us."

"Operation Secret Santa!" Henry says happily.

"Henry suggested the name," David says affectionately. "All of us wanted to make this Christmas special for you so we worked together. We're all guilty, I'm afraid."

Emma swallows, and then swallows again. Her family is looking at her, David and Mary with open, bright gazes that always make her feel loved, and she detects nothing but love and the slightest hint of sadness in them. (Emma now knows that slight hint of sadness will always linger. It's how her parents feel about having had to give her up.) Henry is just happy, but the love is no less.

They all did it, she thinks.

"Did you open them?" Henry asks eagerly.

"No," she manages to say, finding her voice. "How about we go upstairs and get them all and you help me open them, kid?"

Henry beams, and Mary Margaret and David smile at his eagerness. As he bolts up the stairs to help her carry them, she lifts her gaze to her parents. David's arm is resting across Mary Margret's shoulder, caressing gently, and Emma wonders just when her parents being affectionate became such an endearing thing to her. (Though they could cut down on the making out in the kitchen/living room/bathroom parts.)

"Thanks," she says, hearing her own voice catch. David and Mary Margaret just smile at her, but their eyes are teary.

"Come on, mom! I want to know what Gramps and Grams got you!" Henry calls impatiently.

"Coming!" she calls up to him, and with a last smile to her parents, she heads upstairs too. Henry will want to unwrap her gifts quickly, she knows, but to her what is in them is less important. It's the gesture, and what the gesture says.

She is loved by a family; her family.


	58. Chapter 58

Prompt:  
_Reunion sex, Snow/Charming in Neverland after Charming has been cured. He's so happy to see her again, but they have to be quiet since the others are nearby._

He can't stop touching her.

Just hours ago he thought he would die, that he would have to leave his wife to heartbreak and his daughter to another loss. The thought of it nearly killed him right along with the poison. To cause his family such pain… No. He would die to prevent it, only he now knows dying would actually cause it.

But he lives. His life has a price, but right now he doesn't think about the price. He thinks only of the woman in his arms, his beloved who is meeting his increasing frantic kisses with soft, reassuring lips.

"Charming, what has gotten into you?" she murmurs, drawing her hand across his chest.

Fear, he doesn't say. Relief. Having to face parting from her. Her. Always her, as she is in him like a part of him by now.

"I love you," he says instead, then slants his mouth across hers and feels rather than hears her throaty moan. They don't have much time, he knows. They have planning to do, a grandson to save, and Regina has been mentioning giving Emma a magic lesson.

But he will steal a moment with his wife first.

With a word, he takes her hand and leads her slightly further into the jungle. Not too far, and still within short distance of the camp, but far enough for a little privacy.

Snow looks at him through lowered eyelids as he backs her into a tree. Her breath is already shallow, and her lips part in a breathless sigh as he lowers his head to her neck.

"Snow," he says, kissing it into her skin. He might call her Mary Margaret for Emma's sake, but the name he holds for her in his heart will always be Snow.

She digs her fingers into his shoulder, pressing against his body. The curves and shapes of her body are familiar, and he still longs to explore and caress thoroughly. No time for that now, though.

He sinks down to his knees, feeling her hands come to rest on his head and twisting his hair lightly as he pulls one boot off her, then the other. The leggings are slightly more trouble pulling off, but he manages with a triumphant growl.

She growls too, as he presses his hand between her legs. "_Charming._"

"Yes, Snow?" he says lightly, watching her as he strokes his fingers back and forth, back and forth. When he presses his thumb down, she hisses and digs her fingers into his scalp.

He could do this all day and be perfectly happy, he knows, always loving seeing her so lost to pleasure. But his own need is dark and insistent, and he lifts himself up to kiss her again, and again while he fumbles his jeans down far enough.

She locks her legs around him as he lifts her up, and then he slides into her with a shuddering groan. Everything is all right in this moment, as he's with her, wrapped in her, and in her. _Snow_. Snow, Snow, Snow, and he makes her name a rhythm that he follows as he moves inside her.

She welcomes his sharp, quick thrusts with moans into his mouth, as well as the occasional scarping of her teeth against his lower lip. They have to be quiet, they both know, with the camp so close, and so swallows the sound of the other. Her moans, his growls, both their panting.

She bites down hard on his lip as she comes, and he follows with a soundless cry of her name right after. He can't hold her up anymore, and so they sink down to the ground below the tree, still all tangled in each other.

As they regain their sense, Snow kisses his lower lip lovingly, brushing her thumb across the slight marks from her teeth.

"Not that I'm complaining," she murmurs, and he smiles, "but what was that about?"

"You," he does say, lifting his hand to cup her cheek. "It's always about you."

It is, after all. She's his wife, the mother of his daughter, his true love. His Snow, as he is her Charming, each having claimed a part of the other. They're no longer complete without the other.

And so, he kisses her softly and tries to forget that he nearly lost her and she him, and tries to chase away the fear that it might happen one day.


	59. Chapter 59

Prompt:  
_If there's any spaces left in the Advent Calendar: Snow discovering she is pregnant after they get sent back to the Enchanted Forest._

Heartbreak, Snow knows, won't actually kill you. She's survived it before, when she had to break Charming's heart to save his life, the countless times she's thought she's lost him to some danger, and of course when she had to give Emma up the first time.

The second is no less heartbreaking for being familiar. Again, they have to give up their daughter for her best chance, for her chance at a happy ending. At least they know she can have it this time, with Henry in her life, and Snow clings to that knowledge as a lifeline. (Just as she did the hope that Emma would indeed find them the first time.)

It still hurts. They won't be there to see their daughter happy, won't be there to support her when she needs, or simply be there when she wants them to be. They'll be a family in Snow and Charming's memory only.

Heartbreak won't kill you, Snow knows. But there are days when she wonders how they'll be able to bear it.

II

She watches her first sunrise back in the Enchanted Forest while Charming holds her hand, and tries to feel like this is a new beginning and not just an end.

At least she has him, her heart and home, and she kisses him in the dawning light of a new day.

II

Nothing of Storybrooke remains, which means they don't even have a memento of Emma to cling to. No pictures. No baby blanket. No clothes she wore, no jewelry she had, not even the toaster she frequently fought with. Nothing.

Snow longs for something to remember her daughter by, and tells Charming this one evening while she clings to him in bed.

He smiles sadly at her, pressing a kiss against her temple. "I know. We could have a portrait made if you wish. But Snow, she did give us something we still have with us."

"What?" she asks.

"A part of her heart," he says softly, and she wishes more than anything that he is right.

II

One night she can't sleep, she finds Regina being similarly awake, watching the stars as if trying to make a wish on them. But all the stars in all the skies might not be enough for what Regina wishes, Snow knows.

So she sits next to her step-mother, her longtime enemy now turned something else, and the mother of her grandson.

"I know now," Regina says hollowly.

"Know what?" Snow asks.

"What I did when I made you give up your child," Regina says, and Snow nods very slowly. Yes. This is the pain of having to give up a child, something Snow would never wish upon anyone, but nevertheless the pain she knows, Emma knew and now Regina knows.

"I'm sorry, Regina," Snow says, and means it; perhaps one day Regina will tell her the same and mean it too.

II

The weeks pass, life moves on, and hearts, while easily broken, also prove to be stronger than any mental. Because they live on, Snow and Charming and even Regina, live on with the memories.

And new beginnings sneak up on them all, Regina when she meets Robin Hood and little Roland, and Snow when Doc tells her two simple words.

She seeks out Charming right away, finding him watching the small portrait of Emma they've gotten painted. Quietly, she slips her hand into his and watches with him for a while, until he sighs sadly and then smiles at her.

"I miss her," he says simply, and she nods. They always will. But they wanted Emma to have her happy ending, and she rather thinks their daughter loved them enough to want happiness for them too.

"Charming," she says softly, lifting their linked hands to rest against her stomach. "I'm pregnant."

His breath catches, and then he kisses her lovingly and reverently under the picture of their daughter and in the light of a new day. It's heartbreaking and heartening at the same time, a new baby and a lost girl.

Maybe that's how hearts remain so strong even broke, Snow thinks, as she leans her forehead against his. As long as hearts love, they can always piece together something new of what was broken.


	60. Chapter 60

Prompt:  
_Honeymoon at the summer palace & Snow tells Charming that never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine finding an incredibly handsome man on her childhood bed._

Snow wakes slowly, feeling light against her eyelids and a gradual awareness of her surroundings. She keeps her eyes closed, instead focusing on the sensations that are slowly filtering through to her mind.

There is a warm body next to her and halfway underneath her, a hand at her back below the covers, while one of her hands is resting against the smooth skin of a man's chest. He is breathing softly, and if she presses her palm more firmly to his chest she imagines she could feel his heartbeats too.

Yesterday, she kissed the skin above his heart after he whispered that it was hers. It wasn't the only part of him she kissed, though. She has one leg between his, and she can feel the muscles of his thigh against her skin, and remembers trailing kisses along them while he watched her through lowered eyelids.

Her own muscles are slightly sore from the evening before. Their wedding night. Their official wedding night, and the start of their honeymoon. But most importantly it was the start of their life together. She is waking up next to Charming, as she will do most of her days for the rest of her life.

She smiles at that, and then finds her lips suddenly caught by Charming's as he kisses her softly.

"Good morning," he murmurs, kissing her again.

"Morning," she echoes, keeping her eyes closed for a moment longer while he steals yet another kiss. Finally, she opens her eyes to see him beam at her, his expression so infused with happiness that her breath catches.

"Did you sleep well?" he asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She imagines her hair is a wild mess, but he seems either to not care or simply find it beautiful from the way he is looking at her.

"I did, once we finally got to the sleeping part," she says, blushing slightly. He just grins, kissing her yet again.

"No nightmares?" he suddenly says, suddenly looking worried. She remembers the nights he's woken her from yet another nightmare caused by the sleeping curse, and glances over at the night stand. There is a candle ready there, she realizes, and feels the love for him like a sudden painful ache.

"None at all," she reassures him, lifting a hand to his cheek and caressing lovingly. "Only good dreams. This is a place of good dreams. As a young girl, I always dreamt of taking my husband here."

"Mmm," he murmurs, his fingers making light patterns across her back. "Did you ever dream of waking up like this?"

"With an incredibly handsome man, a right Prince Charming, on my childhood bed?" she jokes, drawing her thumb across his lower lip. "Not even in my wildest dreams. My dreams used to end with hand-holding and chaste kisses. I was a girl, after all."

He grins, then captures one of her hands with his own and intertwine their fingers. Gently, he leans forward and brushes a soft, chaste kiss against her lips. "Like that?"

"Mmm," she says, smiling at him. "But that was the girl's dream. I told you once before. I'm not a girl, I'm a woman."

"I have the scar to remember that by," he says fondly, smiling back at her. "So what does the woman want?"

She gives him a long, thoughtful look as if she's considering her options, feeling her toes curl at the expression of his face. He wants. Oh, he wants her, just as she wants him.

"I think I will have to show you," she finally says, lifting herself up slightly and making sure her breasts brush against his chest in a way that makes him moan softly.

"I think so too," he agrees, and then she kisses him quite unchastely and very happily, feeling her body being quite awake now too.

This is how she would like to wake up next to Charming, every morning for the rest of her life, she decides, and hopes it will be a dream come true.

(It won't.)


	61. Chapter 61

Prompt:  
_ Snow and Charming's very first Christmas together in the enchanted forest :)_

Her husband may have gone slightly overboard in the decorating department, Snow considers, taking in their bedroom. Every inch is as decorated as the hall, which itself is practically glittering like some sort of long lost treasure trove.

"Do you like it?" Charming asks beside her, sounding hopeful and happy.

"Very seasonal," she manages to say, then tilts her head. "Charming, why is there mistletoe hanging over our bed?"

His smile is so playful she has to bite her lip not to kiss him then and there. "It's a good place to kiss, don't you think?"

"It is," she agrees. "Which is why we do it every evening and morning and sometimes even at midday. I don't recall any mistletoe needed then."

"Think of it as an extra incentive," he says, and this time biting her lip just won't do. So she tip-toes and pulls him to her in a kiss, biting lightly at his lower lip while at it. He hums happily at her enthusiasm, then kisses her back with equal fervor.

They're both slightly breathless when they pull apart, and Snow rests her forehead against his.

"I may have gone a bit overboard," he admits. "I just…"

"What?" she asks softly.

"We never had any money for decorations at the farm," he says quietly. "I have no idea how to decorate for Christmas. I just wanted to make sure our first Christmas together was as good as I could make it."

She swallows. He acts so much like what a prince and knight should be sometimes that she forgets he was raised a shepherd.

"You don't have to decorate the whole castle to give me a good Christmas," she tells him softly, brushing her thumb across his lips. "Just having you will do. And…"

"And what?" he asks, as she takes his hands in hers and places them on her stomach. He draws a sharp breath. "Snow?"

"Yes," she says, beaming at him as understanding dawns on his face. "We're going to have the best gift we could possibly imagine sometime next year. I'm pregnant, Charming. But don't you dare gift-wrap my stomach!"

He laughs, then lifts her up and swings her around in delight while kissing her, and she laughs at his joy.

"I have all I ever want," he promises her. "A family, Snow. We're going to be a family."

"Yes," she agrees, as he lowers her back on her feet and kisses her forehead reverently. "Next Christmas we'll spend with our child too."

"I can't wait," he says, putting his hands on her stomach again. She smiles at him, imaging him with a child in his arms and just as many decorations everywhere. The start of a line of family Christmases, their family Christmases.

She can't wait; she doesn't yet know she'll have to.


	62. Chapter 62

Prompt:  
_Thanksgiving/Christmas with the Charmings_

Emma Swan have never loved Christmas.

It was after all a holiday very much centered around family, and she had none. She had one Christmas with a family, one, and then they had a child of her own and suddenly they weren't her family anymore.

Christmas became something for everyone else, and simply loneliness for her. Even the Christmas carols would sound hollow and mocking, and the Christmas lights would seem distant like stars far away that she couldn't reach.

It just wasn't for her.

And then… Then she suddenly had someone to spend it with. Last Christmas, Mary Margaret was simply her friend, and they had a quiet lovely Christmas together that was far too sentimental for Emma's tastes, but that she enjoyed for Mary Margaret's sake. Henry snuck out on Christmas Eve to give Emma a secret gift, and they hugged in the snow while the stars shone overhead.

It had been a lovely Christmas, and she would have been content to have every Christmas like that from then on. Still not a holiday for her, but a holiday she could take part in nevertheless.

And then the curse broke. Mary Margaret was her mom and David was her dad, and she actually had a family with parents and a son.

So now, this Christmas Eve, it actually is her holiday, with family activities that includes her: Christmas carols to sing along to with Henry;Christmas lights to light up outside with David; a Christmas dinner to help Mary Margaret prepare and serve; and eggnog for all the adults to enjoy that was far too strong and made David and Mary Margaret start flirting and kissing far too much. And food for everyone, so much food it could feed a kingdom.

David even gets them all Christmas decorated bear-claws as a sort of dessert, something that makes Emma pull him into a fierce hug in the kitchen. He sighs happily and then wraps his arms around her, and Mary Margaret watches them with a soft smile.

Emma decides to blame the eggnog later, but for now, she hugs her mother too, and then Henry and even agrees to wear the Santa hat Henry has gotten her.

The gifts are for unwrapping in the morning, but she can already see the huge pile with her name on it. It easily rivals Henry's, and makes her wonder if she's about to get 28 years of Christmas presents in one go.

She spent far too long finding presents for them, for Henry and David and Mary Margaret, second-guessing herself at every purchase. But still, she almost enjoyed the experience, feeling a slight thrill every time she found something she knew they would love.

She's actually looking forward to the morning, to Christmas Day, she realizes, and wonders if this is the joy all children with families feel at Christmas.

They end up on the couch at the end of the evening, Henry nestled against Emma's side, David with an arm around Emma and Mary Margaret curled up in his lap. The lights on their Christmas tree sparkle at her, and she watches them quietly while the radio in the kitchen keeps playing Christmas carols.

"Merry Christmas, Emma," her father whispers to her, kissing the side of her head softly. Mary Margaret has fallen asleep already, and he's stoking her hair affectionately and lovingly. It takes her a moment to realize she's stroking Henry's hair the same way.

Love, she thinks, closing her eyes. She is loved, and she loves, and all the silly movies about the meaning of Christmas suddenly seem to make alarmingly mushy sense. She isn't removed from it any more. It isn't a holiday for everyone else. It's for her too, and her family.

"Merry Christmas, dad," she whispers, and actually feels it.

Emma Swan never loved Christmas because she had no family to love.

That changed.


End file.
